
Funny Plays 

M^pi^^ays 


Beckley-Cardy Company 

CHICAGO 


SUPPLEMENTARY READERS 

Cloth Bound 

These books represent a step forward in story-book making, 
and contain fresh material, the kind that is bein-j placed in the 
best schools of to-day. 

Artistically the books set a new standard. Each book has 
from thirty to ninety illustrations which are particularly 
attractive, and many of which are in colors. 

Mechanically the books are superior. The paper used, the 
large type, and the general arrangement are all determined by 
careful experimenting in order to safeguard the eyesight of 
eliildren. All books are attractively bound in cloth stamped in 


two colors. 

Animal-Land Children—Flora—Grades 2-3.$0.70 

Bow-Wow and Mew-Mew—Craik—Grades 1-2.55 

A Child’s Robinson Crusoe—Nida—Grades 2-3.65 

Father Thrift and His Animal Friends—^Sindelar—Grades 2-3 .70 

The Like-To-Do Stories—Smith—Grades 2-3.70 

Nixie Bunny in Manners-Land—Sindelar—Grades 2-3.70 

.Nixie Bunny in Workaday-Land—Sindelar—Grades 2-3.70 

.Nixie Bunny in Holiday-Land—Sindelar—Grades 2-3.70 

Nixie Bunny in Faraway-Lands—Sindelar—Grades 2-3.70 

Nonsense Rhymes and Animal Stories—Deming—Grades 2-3... .65 

^tory of the American Flag—Fallows—Grades 5-8.70 

The Teenie Weenies—Donahey-Baker—Grades 2-3.70 

Two Indian Children of Long Ago — Taylor — Grades 2-3.70 


THE PROGRESSIVE SCHOOL CLASSICS 

A new series of reading books, which offers the highest class 
of literature for all grades at very small cost. No other series 
at so low a price contains the valuable features of this series, 
namely: accurate and authentic texts, notes and numbered lines 
for reference, portraits, biographical sketches, illustrations, new 
type, good paper aud binding, and convenient size. 

Bow-Bow and Mew-Mew—Craik—Grades 1-2—95 pages t20 cents). 
Peter Rabbit and Other Tales—Grades 2-3. 

The King of the Golden River—Ruskin—Grades 4-6. 

Rip Van Winkle and the Author’s Account of Himself—Irving— 
Grades 5-8. 

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow—Irving—Grades 5-8. 

Thanatopsis. Sello and Other Poems—Bryant—Grades 5-8. 

The Courtship of Miles Standish—Longfellow—Grades 6-8. 

Th^ Pied Piper of Hamelin and Other Poems—Browning—Grade* 
6 - 8 . 

Evangeline—Longfellow—Grades 6-8. 

The Great Stone Face—Hawthorne—Grades 6-8. 

The Man Without a Country—Hale—Grades 6-8. 

Snow-Bound and Other Poems—Whittier—Grades 6-8. 

Enoch Arden—Tennjson—Grades 6-H. S. 

The Vision of Sir Launfal and Other Poems—^Lowell—Grad** 

6- H. S. 

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner—Coleridge—Grades 7-H. S. 

The Cotter’s Saturday Night and Other Poems—Burns—Grades 

7- lL S. 

The Deserted Village ( Goldsmith) and Elegy — Gray — Grades 7-H. a 
Sohrab and Rustum—Arnold—Grades 8-H. S. 

Price, 10 copies,90 cents;26 copies,$2.00; 100 copies, $7.00,postpaidc 
Illustrated Catalog of Books mailed free upon request 


BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY, Publishers, CHICAGO 


















FUNNY PLAYS 
FOR HAPPY DAYS 


BY 

HOBERT 0. BOGGS 

. ^ 

AUTHOR OF ^ 

COMIC PLAYS AND DIALOGUES 


0 , 


BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


PN Gtzo 

■ /\s B64f 


Copyright, 1928, by 
Beckley-Cardy Company 


©CIA 3400 


T Tinted in U. S. A. 

29 l9Pd 



Contents 


PAGE 

Jay and Kay . 5 

2 hoys 

AVhen Pop Was a Boy. 9 

1 hoy 

Bim and Bam. 10 

2 hoys 

Lou AND Sue . 13 

2 girls 

The Professor and His Project. 17 

2 hoys 

George Washington and the Hatchet. 27 

3 hoys 

Lovin' Leroy . 32 

1 hoy, 1 girl 

Salvation Am P'ree . 37 

5 hoys, 1 girl, and any number of non-speaking 
players 

Marie IMisses IMarriage . 42 

2 hoys, 2 girls 

3 


* 












4 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Is A PiG^s Tail Pork?. 56 

2 hoys, 2 girls 

The Sons op the Old Gray Mule. 64 

10 hoys, 1 girl (or eleven hoys) 

Teasing the Teacher. 81 

4 hoys 

Joe Gets a Job.. 84 

1 hoy 

Nero and Ned . 86 

2 hoys 

Old Schoolmates . 91 

2 hoys 

The Fools of April Fool. 96 

6 hoys 

Tom Taylor's Troubles . 104 

3 hoys, 3 girls 

The Trouble-Makers. 112 

4 hoys 

A Cat at School. 119 

6 hoys, 6 girls 












Funny Plays for Happy Days 

JAY AND KAY 

CHARACTERS 

Jay, light-hearted and Kay, light-headed 

Enter Jay and Kay simultaneously from opposite sides 
of the stage. 

Jay. Boy, Howdy. 

Kay. Howdy, boy. 

Jay. How you percolatin’ these days? 

Kay. Best in th’ world. How’s yourself? 

Jay. Not so well as I used to be. 

Kay. No ? Why don’t you go to see a doc ? 

JAY. I been. 

Kay. Perhaps you went to the wrong kind of doctor. 
You see there are several different kinds. There’s the 
homeopath and the osteopath and the— 

Jay. And the path to the grave, if you fool with any of 
’em much; but the doctor I went to was all wrong. 

Kay. How so ? 

Jay. Why, he said that I was suffering from auto-intox¬ 
ication. 

Kay. Well, may be you are. The doctor is supposed to 
know his business, I guess. 

Jay. Yes, but he don’t know mine. I haven’t been in an 
auto for two weeks. 

Kay. Musta been some high-powered auto, then, to last 
you that long. 

Jay. I’ll say it was. I hadn’t been in it two minutes 
until my head got dizzy. 


5 


6 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Kay. Shouldn’t think you would like such a ride. Why 
didn’t you jump out of the car? 

Jay. Didn’t need to jump out. 

Kay. No ? 

Jay. For a fact. You see the chiffonier— 

Kay. You mean the chauffeur. 

Jay. No, I mean what I said. The chiffonier— 

Kay. a chiffonier is one of these swell little dressers. 

Jay. I know what I’m talking about, I tell you. That’s 
what our driver was. 

Kay. Oh, I begin to understand now. But go on. You 
mentioned something about the chiffonier, as you called 
her. What was it about her? 

Jay. Say look here, now. You’re getting too personal. 

Kay. No offense, I’m sure. 

Jay. Humph. 

Kay. Please don’t take offense. 

Jay. Well, I won’t; but our chiffonier did. 

Kay. Who offended her ? 

Jay. Why, nobody. 

Kay. I fail to understand how she took offense, then, if 
no one offended her. Will you please explain ? 

Jay. Well, she was not offended, but she took a fence 
because the fool thing caught on one fender and she just 
kept on going, so she took it right along. 

Kay. Oh, yes, I see; she took a fence, then, because she 
was going at such a rapid gait that she could not very 
well stop. 

Jay. Yes, that’s it. You see, she was a live wire. 

Kay. I should imagine so. And unless I had been well 
charged with her magnetism, I’m thinking that I should 
rather have been out of the car than in it. 

Jay. Well, that depends on where you lit when you went 
out. Now I was lucky enough to hit it soft. 


JAY AND KAY 


7 


Kay. I thought you said you didn’t jump. 

Jay. I didn’t. You see we were headed due east and 
going about sixty miles per. 

Kay. Well, then what? 

Jay. Why, as I said, we were going due east, when all of 
a sudden our chiffonier changed her gear and her mind 
at the same time and headed due south. 

Kay. Then what? 

Jay. Well, I never could make up my mind in a hurry, 
so I just kept on going east. 

Kay. It’s a wonder your neck wasn’t broken. 

Jay. Yes, it is. But I was lucky. 

Kay. You surely were. 

Jay. Yes, when I landed I didn’t land. 

Kay. Now be careful. I believe your mind is still upset 
by the shock. 

Jay. Wasn’t any shock to it. 

Kay. Poor fellow. Surely there was. 

Jay. No, I told you that when I landed I didn’t land. 
I hit water. 

Kay. Oh, that was unfortunate, then. Being already 
dizzy with the high rate of speed, you were in danger of 
being drowned. 

Jay. Wrong again. You see when I hit the water my 
head was already swimming, so I made it fine. But when 
I got ashore my troubles began. 

Kay. Yes, you would be very cold in those wet clothes. 

Jay. No, a cop came along and wanted to arrest me for 
parking wrong; so I soon got warmed up over that. 

Kay. Then I suppose he took you to the cooler. 

Jay. No, no. A man came by with a drum, so I beat it. 

Kay. You did? I didn’t know that you had the faintest 
notion of time. 


8 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Jay. Why, man, that’s all I was thinking about. 

Kay. Well, you’ve surprised me. What kind of time were 
you thinking of, then, as you beat it? Waltz? Jazz? 

Jay. No, sir, I was thinking mostly of tliirty days. 

Kay. You’re too funny. The way you beat it might have 
led one to believe you were training for a race. 

Jay. Yes, or racing for a train. But I was not the only 
one running. 

Kay. Why no, I suppose the cop was running after you. 

Jay. The cop didn’t count. The clocks were running 
and my watch was running, and my heart was running, 
and the river was running— 

Kay. Never mind all of the details. Why not just say 
that there was quite an epidemic of running? 

Jay. What’s an epidemic? 

Kay. Why, something that gets started and then spreads 
all over everywhere. 

Jay. Oh yes, I know. Like molasses. 

Kay. No, no. You don’t seem to grasp the idea. 

Jay. No and I don’t want to, if it’s as sticky as the last 
idea I got of molasses. 

Kay. Who’s talking about molasses? I said an epidemic 
was something which, after getting started, kept going 
and going. 

Jay. Yeah, like our chiffonier. 

Kay. That’s right. I had forgotten about your chiffonier. 

Jay. I hadn’t and don’t expect to, either. 

Kay. Well, what became of her? 

Jay. Didn’t I tell you that she was headed south and I 
kept on going east? 

Kay. Yes, I know; but where is she now? 

Jay. You’re as good at figures as I am. Figure it up 
yourself. 


CURTAIN 


WHEN POP WAS A BOY 


WHEN POP WAS A BOY 

When Pop was a boy, he went to school 
An’ tried t’ toiler th’ Golden Rule. 

When hit on one cheek, he turned th’ other. 
He never “sassed” his dear ol’ mother. 

That’s how Pop did (I really know) 

When he was a boy, for he told me so. 

When Pop was a boy, he went to church 
An’ set up straight as a slim young birch. 

He never once nodded or turned his head, 

But listened closely to what th’ preacher said. 
That’s how Pop did (I really know) 

When he was a boy, for he told me so. 

When Pop was a boy, he went to bed 
Soon after supper, when his prayers were said. 
He never “rasseled” or threw the pillows. 

Or rocked th’ bed like ocean billows. 

That’s how Pop did (I really know) 

When he was a boy, for he told me so. 

When Pop was a boy, he went to work 
An’ never lagged or tried t’ shirk, 

But carefully finished each bidden task. 

An’ never a single question did ask. 

That’s how Pop did (T really know) 

When he was a boy, for he told me so. 


BIM AND BAM 

CHAKACTEES 

Bim and Bam, two darkeys 

Usual nigger” make-up and shabby clothes. 

Enter Bim and Bam from opposite sides of stage at same 
time, both with heads downcast. They collide at 
Center. 

Bim. Hey, man! Watch whe’ yo’s goin\ 

Bam. Yo’ bettah mebbe watch whe’ yo’s cornin’. 

Bim. I had de right o’ way. Yo’s s’posed t’ go ’round 
me. 

Bam. I wuz? Say, looka heah, niggah, don’ gib me none 
o’ yo’ sass. I’ll go through yo’ in a minit. 

Bim. In a minit? 

Bam. Yes, in a minit. 

Bim. Say, niggah, yo’ watch ain’t runnin’ fas’ enuf, am 
it? 

Bam. Ne’ min’ ’bout my watch now. Yo’ bettah watch 
yo’se’f. Somethin’ is apt t’ gonna happen t’ yo’ purty 
soon. 

Bim. Well, what yo’ waitin on? I wish yo’ would sta’t 
somethin’. I don’ lak yo’ looks nohow. 

Bam. Well, yo’ don’ gi’me no appetite yo’se’f. 

Bim. Who don’t? 

Bam. Yo’ don’t. 

Bim. Is yo’ axually referrin’ t’ me? 

Bam. I ain’t skippin’ yo’. 


10 


BIM AND BAM 


11 


Bim. Man, yo’ bettah save yo’ breaf. Yo’s apt t’ need 
it fo^ runnin’ purty soon, ef I gits turned loose on yo^, 
I’m tollin’ yo’. 

Bam. Ef yo’ gits turned loosef 

Bim. Yes, ef I gits tu’ned loose. 

Bam. Who’s hol’in yo’? Yo’ means yo’ wants ter know 
what’s keepin’ me olfa yo’. Well, I axually don’ know 
mahse’f what has kep’ me off dis long. 

Bim. I does. 

Bam. What ? 

Bim. Yo’ knows. 

Bam. No, I don’t. What is yo’ think am kep’ me off o’ 
yo’ dis long? 

Bim. [shows fist]. Bight heah am what done it. 

Bam. What? Dat thing? Dat looks kinda lak a doodle 
bug t’ me. 

Bim. Ef yo’ meets it cornin’ to’ards yo’, yo’ll think it 
wuz a billy goat butted yo’. 

Bam. Well, why don’t yo’ sta’t somthin’ ’sides a breeze? 

Bim. Yo’ keep pesticatin’ wid me an’ I will. ’Bout one- 
two-three—an’ I’ll be right on yo’. 

Bam. Yeah, an’ bout four-five-six, an’ yo’ll be off, too. 

Bim. Yo’ don’t know who it is yo’s talkin’ to, does yo’? 

Bam. No, an’ I don’t keer fer no interduckshun, neither. 

Bim. Well, yo’s gonna git one t’ dis heah Ahm an’ Ham- 
mah Bran ’ Sody I ’se got heah in mah sleeve toreckly. 

Bam. Is dat so ? 

Bim. Yeah, dat’s a facuality, an’ any time I mixes some o’ 
dis [holds up fist before him] in yo’ dough, yo’s gonna 
rise. [Makes expansive gesture as of a bird flying.] 

Bam. Niggah, ef yo’ gits connected onto de positive end 
o ’ dis heah pile drivah, yo ’ ain’t gonna rise—yo’s gonna 
fall. 


12 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Bim. Did yo’ say ^^Nex’ fall?” 

Bam. I said, “Right now, dis instant, forthwith, im- 
mejiately, at once, widout fu’thah delay.” 

Bim. Show yo’ stuff, niggah, I craves t’ be ’mused. 

Bam. Big boy, yo’s apt t’ git mo’ ’musement heah in 
about a jiffy fo’ nothin’, than yo’ evah paid fifty cents 
fo’ in yo’ life. 

Bim. Who’s gonna show it to me ? 

Bam. I is, dat’s who. 

Bim. Yo’an’who? 

Bam. Me only, alone, widout nobody else. 

Bim. Yo’ might gimme jest a li’l sample, bein’ as yo’ got 
so much in stock. 

Bam. Aw right, yo’ see dese heah? [Holds up fists.] 

Bim. Yeah. What about ’em ? 

Bam. Dem’s medicine. 

Bim. What kin’ o’ medicine? What’s de name? 

Bam. Dem is Doctah Smith’s cough drops. 

Bim. I don ’ see nothin ’ t ’ that. 

Bam. I does. Take one an’ go t’ bed. 

Bim. Humph. 

Bam. Take two an’ yo’ coffin^ will be fixed. 

Bim. What kin’ o’ coughin* is yo’ talkin’ ’bout? 

Bam. Eithah one. It’s all th’same anyway. 

Bim. Humph. Yo’ don’t look bad t’ me in no respec’. 

Bam. Well, I jest notices one thing ’bout yo’ dat am 
in any sense ob de wo’d bad at all. 

Bim. Dat so? 

Bam. Yeah, an’ dat bad thing am yo’ disposition an’ 
c’n be handled wid de Ahm an’ Hammah Bran’ Sody 
I‘se got heah in mah sleeve right now. [Starts toward 
Bim.]. 


CURTAIN 


LOU AND SUE 


Enter Lou and Sue, simultaneously from opposite sides 
of the stage. Lou seems happyy while Sue appears to 
he downhearted. 

Lou. Why hello, Sue. 

Sue. Morning, Lou. 

Lou. How are you this fine and beautiful morning? 

Sue. Not much. 

Lou. No? Why, what can be the matter with any one 
on a splendid day like this ? 

Sue. Well, if you must know, I have something that is 
preying on my mind to a dreadful extent. 

Lou. Oh well, then, if that is all, it will soon die of 
starvation. 

Sue. I suppose, then, you know about such things from 
actual experience. 

Lou. Maybe so. Maybe so. But what, my dear, has been 
preying on your sweet young mind ? 

Sue. I have been thinking about men. 

Lou. Oh, I thought maybe it was something important. 

Sue. I keep thinking of how Jack proposed to me last 
night. 

Lou. What ? Has he just now got around to you ? 

Sue. Don’t be funny. He said a strange thing, anyhow. 

Lou. Really. I am dying of curiosity. 

Sue. Well, he said that he wished he had enough money 
to get married on. 

Lou. Then of course you told him that it wouldn’t take 
such a great lot and that you would be satisfied with a 
rented house for a while. 


13 


14 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Sue. No. I asked him what he would do if he had enough 
money to get married on. 

Lou. And he said— 

Sue. That he would finish his education. 

Lou. Oh, that reminds me of when Jim proposed to me. 

Sue. Really ? 

Lou. Yes. When he proposed to me he got on his knees 
and clasped his hands together, and he looked so silly. 

Sue. Just think what a silly thing he was doing. 

Lou. He clasped his hands together and plead his case. 

Sue. He'd better have been saying his prayers. 

Lou. Will you not interrupt me again? He looked up 
into my face and said, “Darling, I love you with a—” 

Sue. “Love that is more than love.’^ 

Lou. No—“with a love that is wider than the sky and 
deeper than the sea.” 

Sue. That was more than you could swallow, wasn’t it? 

Lou. Oh no. I told him to go right on, as I was a good 
swimmer and also knew how to float. 

Sue. Well, you ought to swim and float easily. 

Lou. Why so? 

Sue. Your head is a vacuum. 

Lou. Don’t get so cute. Just as he finished his— 

Sue. Spasm. 

Lou. No, speech, the lights went out. 

Sue. Where’d they go? 

Lou. Oh, silly, think of it, will you? There we were, in 
utter darkness. 

Sue. And neither of you could utter another word. 

Lou. You are determined not to be serious, I see. 

Sue. Yes, yes. I’ll be serious. You were in the darkness. 
Jim had ju.st finished his proposal and you were naturally 
already nervous—you know—supposed to be, anyway— 
and—that’s as far as you told me. What next? 


LOU AND SUE 


15 


Lou. Why, Jim took two pennies and fixed the light plugs 
so they would burn. 

Sue. Aw, piffle! 

Lou. You didn’t know Jim was an electrician, did you? 

Sue. He isn’t. He’s an idiot. But did neither of you 
say anything else ? 

Lou. I think we said something, but I don’t remember 
what is was, though. You see, I was so excited, really 
I think I lost all six of my senses. 

Sue. Six? Why, I have only five. 

Lou. Yes, I know. Common sense is the sixth one, you 
see. 

Sue. Well, I’ll hand it to you you’re some Ciitie. You 
got it from some book, though. 

Lou. Well, I’ll hand it to you, you’re some Beauty. You 
got it from some drug store, though. 

Sue. Well, go ahead and tell the rest about Jim. That 
surely isn’t all. 

Lou. Oh no, I changed the subject, I think, and began 
telling ghost stories. 

Sue. What a boner! 

Lou. Oh, I just dearly love them myself, but Jim is scared 
to death at the mention of anything spooky. 

Sue. What made you do him that way then ? 

Lou. I wanted to get him scared and I did, too. 

Sue. You should have had more feeling for the poor boy. 

Lou. I did. I did. The lights went out again, then 1 
really felt for him. 

Sue. What did you say to him when he kissed you ? 

Lou. I asked him if I were the onliest girl that he’d ever 
kissed. 

Sue. Of course he said ‘‘Yes.” 

Lou. He said, “Yes, dear, you are the onliest one and the 
sweetest one.” 


16 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Sue. So you are engaged to him, then ? 

Lou. Yes, by installments. 

Sue. By installments? I never heard of that kind of an 
engagement. 

Lou. Why, thaUs how he bought the ring, so that’s how 
we’re engaged. 

Sue. I see. And if he misses a payment on the ring— 

Lou. I lose the ring and he loses me. 

Sue. Well, now I suppose you will not have anything more 
to do with Harry. He’s sort of a bad egg, you know. 

Lou. Yes, I know. That’s the reason I must hang on to 
him, though. He might get hard boiled. 

Sue. I see. I see. 

Lou. Say, can you keep a secret ? 

Sue. I’m your refrigerator. What is it? 

Lou. Jimmy told father about our engagement. 

Sue. Naturally. How did the pater receive the news? 

Lou. He was completely charmed. 

Sue. Didn’t he give any advice to the lovelorn pair ? 

Lou. Oh yes, he told Jimmy that it was now high time that 
he began thinking of something for a rainy day. 

Sue. Of course Jimmy agreed with him and at once set 
about to follow his instructions. 

Lou. I’ll say he did. When he left he took dad’s over¬ 
shoes and rain coat. 

Sue. Indeed he is a young man of taking ways. 

Lou. Why, that’s how he bought the ring, so that’s how 

Sue. What next ? 

Lou. He brought them back the next morning and ex¬ 
changed with Bud, as dad’s were too big for him. 

Sue. I can see that you will always be well provided for, 
provided your dad keeps his position and stays in a good 
humor. 


CURTAIN 


THE PROFESSOR AND HIS PROJECT 


CHAEACTEES 

The Professor and his colleague, Mose. Both colored. 
SCENE 

The Professor s study. Desk or table littered with 
books, papers, test tubes, vials, bottles, etc. 

Discovered: Professor seated at desk, intently re¬ 
garding a small bottle of colorless liquid which he holds 
up to the light. 

Professor. Lse got it! Ise got it! Eureky! Eureky! 
Oh Mose! Come heah quick! 

Enter Mose from Right. 

Mose. What is it, ’Fessah? 

Professor springs to his feet and capers about room 
excitedly. 

Professor. Ise got it, Mose! Ise got it! 

Mose. I sho b’lieves it. But what is yo’ got? 

Professor [pointing to bottle in his hand]. Eureky! 
Eureky I 

Mose. No, I nevah. 

Professor. Eureky! Eureky! 

Mose. I tole y’ I nevah done it. Yo’ wrecked it yo’se’f 
ef it’s wrecked. 

Professor. No, no! Ther’ ain’t nothin’ wrecked, Mose. 
Eureky! EurekyJ 

Mose. You’re another’n. I ain’t no mo’ Reeky dan yo’ 
is. 


17 


18 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Professor [more calmly]. Eureky, my dea’ly beloved 
coworker, is a word which hab come all de way from 
Greece. 

Mose. I notice yo’ poured it out mighty slick an’ greasy- 
like. 

Professor. Yo’ fails t’ comprehen’. 

Mose. What’s a hen got t’ do wid it nohow? 

Professor. Yo’ fails t’ un’erstan’ de meanin’ ob my wuds. 

Mose. I fails t’ un’erstan’ de meanin’ ob yo’ actions, too, 
less’ll dat stuff in dat bottle am got somethin’ t’ do wid 
it. 

Professor. When I said, “Eureky! Eureky 1”, I meant 
nothin’ mo’— 

Mose [interrupting]. I don’t ca’ how much nor how little 
yo’ meant, I don’t wants yo’ ter call me dat again. 

Professor. I nevah called yo’ nothin’, Mose. 

Mose. Yo’ did, too. Yo’ said Ise Reeky, an’ I ain’t Reeky, 
Ise Mose. 

Professor. Oh no, Mose. Eureky am a wud dat come 
from Greece. 

Mose. Well, yo’ betteh sen’ it back t’ Greece, den, befo’ 
it gits yo’ in trouble, ’c’ase I ain’t gonna stan’ fer bein’ 
called no kin’ o’ name ’cept my own. 

Professor. But Eureky ain’t no name, Mose. It am a 
sayin’. 

Mose. Well, I don’ want no sich sayin’s as dat said about 
me. 

Professor. I nevah said it ’bout yo’, Mose. Lisseh an’ 
I’ll esplain. 

Mose. Yeah, yo’ll ’bout fool ’roun an’ esplain yo’self in 
trouble ag’in, lak yo’ did ’bout us an’ dem pullets. 

Professor. See heah, now, Mose, I don’ wants none o’ 
yo’ badinage, neithah. 

Mose. Yo’ don’ wants none o’ my what? 


THE PROFESSOR AND lllS PROJECT 


19 


Professor. None o’ yo’ hadinage. 

Mose. I ain’t tryin’ t’ gib yo’ no bad aigs. I means jest 
what I sez an’ some mo’ on top uv it. Man, I’ll go 
through yo’ lak a pickpocket. [Rolls up sleeves and 
gestures at Professor.] 

Professor. Now jest be mo’ ca’m, Mose. [Trys to lay 
his hand on Mosers shoidder.] 

Mose. Don’t yo’ lay yo’ paw on me. I’ll ca’m yo’. 

Professor. Now looka heah, Mose, I wants yo’ t’ be 
sensible. I ain’t done nor said nothin’ t’ offen’ yo’ 
feelin’s in de least shape, fo’m or fashion. I only jest 
repeated a simple quotation from th’ Greek— 

Mose. Yo’ bettah not repeat it no mo’. 

Professor. It don’ make ho ref’rence t’ yo’, Mose. It am 
only a sayin’ dat wuz made by a gran’ ole disciple ob 
science, lak myse’f, named Hippocrates, or some sich 
name. 

Mose. He sholy musta been a hypocrite all right. Any 
man dat’d say any sich foolishment as dat am got 
somethin’ wrong wid ’im. 

Professor. But yo’ see, dis heah ain’t foolishment, Mose. 
Jest ’cause yo’ cain’t un’erstan’ it ain’t no sign dat it 
don’t mean nothin’. Dis heah sayin’ come from de Ian’ 
ob Greece, I tells yo’. 

Mose. Whar am dis heah Greece yo’ keeps talkin’ so 
much about? 

Professor. Greece? Why Greece am nex’ t’ Tu’key. 

Mose. I knows dat, ef de tu’key’s fat; but what am dis 
Ian’ yo’s talkin’ bout’? 

Professor. I tole yo’ de country ob Greece am nex’ t’ 
de country ob Tu’key. 

Mose. Man, dat’s whar Ise gonna move. 

Professor. No, you won’t. 

IMose. Who won’t ? 


1^0 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


• ; OFESSOR. You won’t. 

r losE. Who said I won’t ? I guess I will ef I wants to. 

1 ROFESSOR. No, dat Ian’ am too far away, Mose. It am 
now mos’ly a Ian’ ob story an’ song. 

r^osE. I orta knowed dat yo’ wuz tellin’ anothah one ob 
yo’ stories. 

Professor. I means de kin’ o’ story dat am writ in books 
an’ so on. 

Mose. Oh, am dat whar yo’ got dat ‘‘U-ricky! U>ricky!” 
bizness ? 

Professor. Yeah, yo’ see, “Eureky! Eureky!” means, “I 
found it.” 

Mose. Well, “Snake eyes! Snake eyes!” den. 

Professor. What does yo ’ mean by dat ? 

Mose. Dat means, “I lost it.” 

Professor. But Ise really foun’ somethin-, Mose, dat will 
make ouah fortunes. 

Mose. Well, I sholy am glad o’ dat. Chickens what us 
eats won’t haf t’ be got at night, den. 

Professor. Does yo ’ see dis heah small receptacle, Mose ? 

Mose. Yeah, but I thought it wuz a bottle. 

Professor. Well, in dis small receptacle I holds a ’lixir 
dat will change a black man to white. 

Mose. Dat’s mighty strong lieker, ’Fessah. 

Professor. Nevahtheless it am a fac ’, Mose. I hab wuked 
long an’ had lots o’ setbacks— 

Mose. Once in a while I got holt uv a canvasback fo’ yo’, 
too. 

Professor. I hab dug deep into de secrets ob ole Mothah 
Natuah an’ partook well ob de facks foun’ therein. 

Mose. Yeah, I knows yo’s allays partook well ob evehthing 
yo’ got a holt uv. 

Professor. Mose, be serious. 

]\rosE. I is. Go on. 


THE PROFESSOR AND HIS PROJECT 


21 


Professor. Dis am a gran’ projec’ dat Ise got, Mose, an’ 
I wants yo ^ ter lissen while I expoun’s it. 

Mose. Poun’ away, den. Ise all yeahs. 

Professor. Well, to begin at de beginnin’ an’ perceed in 
a systematic way— 

Mose [interr%pting ]. Now looka heah, ’Fessah, Ise ’greed 
t’ lissen an’ all dat, but I don’ wanta heah no mo’ ’bout 
Yo’ sistah Mattie. 

Professor [ignoring interruption]. Lessee now, Mose. Man 
am made from de soil, ain’t he? 

Mose. I s’pose so. Some ob ’em is mighty po’ dirt, too. 

Professor. Dat’s de very thing dat I set t’ wuk on. De 
dif’runt kin’s o’ soil wuz my study. I diskivered dat all 
soil itsef wuz de same as any othah soil ’ceptin’ dat dere 
wuz certain elements missin’ in some ob it. 

Mose. Certain elefunts missin’? Well, yo’ needn’s be 
lookin’ at me. I nevah got ’em. 

Professor. Ise made it a study, I tells yo’, t’ fin’ dem 
missin’ elements an’ also fin’ deir defects on de human 
body. I fin’s dat de body am defected in dif’runt ways 
by de presence or absence ob dese elements. 

Mose. Anybody orta know dat a body’d be defected ef a 
ellyfunt stepped on ’em. 

Professor. I fin’s dat in Africky, which is ouah original 
home— 

Mose. I nevah lived dere in my life. 

Professor. I mean it is de home ob de black race. In 
Africky, dere am a lack ob certain elements in de watah 
dat am foun ’ in de watah ob othah countries. 

Mose. Uh-huh. What am it? 

Professor. I ain’t gib it no name yit, but it am de stuff 
dat makes white men’s skins white. 

Mose [bewildered^. What’s dat now? Yo’ says de watah 
in Africky ain’t got it, but de watah heah is? 


22 


FUNNY PLAYS FOK HAPPY DAYS 


Professor. Dat^s what Ise diskivered. 

Mose. Well, looks lak us a-drinkin’ dis watah ’d done 
made us white, lak de rest o ’ de fo ’ks dat libs heah. 

Professor. In two or three centuries it would, Mose. 

Mose. Whar kin I fin ’ myse ’f two or three uv dem things 
yo’ haid ? I wants ter be white. 

Professor. I said, “two or three centuries,’^ Mose. Dat 
means two or three hunerd yeahs. 

Mose [disappointed]. Oh Lawd! I thought yo’d diskiv¬ 
ered somethin ’ that’d do some good. 

Professor. It will, Mose. Jest yo’ wait, will yo’? 

Mose. Man, I cain’t ’ford t’ wait no two or three hunerd 
yeahs fo’ it. 

Professor. I means, wait till I finishes esplainin’. 

Mose. Well, toot yo’ whistl’e an’ plane away den. 

Professor. Well, Ise foun’ dat de elements I referred to 
am present in ouah watah only in small propo’tion. De 
white fo’ks hab been drinkin’ de watah fo’ ages, though, 
while us as a race uv peepul wuz drinkin’ de watah dat 
had none o’ dem elements. 

Mose. An’ still some fo’ks says dat all men wuz created 
equal. Bettah change dat t’ “All men wuz created wid 
or widout elemunts.” 

Professor. Now, my labohs all hab been t’ distill, refine 
an’ concentrate dese elements, which I hab at last dun. 

Mose. Whoopee! Gimme dat bottle, ’Fessah. 

Professor. No, no. I must dose it to yo’ wid ca’ an’ per¬ 
cussion. 

Mose. Dem’s jest othah wuds fo’ stinginess, ain’t ’em? 

Professor. Not in de least, Mose. Yo’ knows dat I wants 
t’ gib my bes’ frien’ an’ livin’ mate de fust chance t’ 
become white. 

Mose. Well, gimme dat bottle, den. What yo’ waitin’ on? 


THE PROFESSOR AND HIS PROJECT 


23 


Professor [takes glass and spoon]. Dere might be some 
dangah’ ef yo’ got too much. Us must be keerful. 

Mose. Ef dere’s any danger to it, Ise gonna be more dan 
keerful. I ain’t gonna hab nothin’ t’ do wid it a-tall. 

Professor. Oh yes, Mose, yo’ll agree t’ stan’ th’ 
esperiment. 

Mose. Jest me ’greein’ to it might not make me stan’ it. 
No sah, yo’ go git some othah niggah t’ chew yo’ spear¬ 
mint. I refers t ’ remain as I is. 

Professor. But jest think what an’ honah it’d be t’ be th’ 
fust colored man t’ be tu’ned white. 

Mose. Yeah, it’d be a big honah, wouldn’t it? Y’ s’pose 
th ’ white f0 ’ks’d let me be buried in deir graveyard ? 

Professor. There ain’t no dangah ob yo’ losin’ yo’ life, 
Mose. [Pours out a spoonful of liquid which he then puts 
into glass of water and sfirs-.] Heah, Mose, take dis. 

Mose. Take it yo’se’f. Yo’colah ain’t none too pale itse’f. 

Professor. I couldn’t observe de action on myse’f lak I 
could on yo’. 

Mose. Well, yo’ll jest hab t’ git action on somebody else 
’sides me. I ain’t los’ my appytite fo’ livin’ yit. 

Professor. I tells yo’ it ain’t no dangah ob killin yo’. De 
only thing us must be keerful ’bout is not t’ gib yo’ so 
much dat yo’ won’t hab no colah a-tall. 

Mose. Uh-huh. Dat’s what I thought. In othah wuds, I 
might git so much dat I’d jest fade away. Am dat it ? 

Professor. No, no. Not dat. See heah, ef yo’ thinks it’d 
kill yo’, I’ll prove dat it ain’t nothin’ lak dat. [Drinks 
from glass.] 

Mose. ’By, ’Fessah. What is yo’ wants me t’ tell yo’ 
wife ? 

Professor. Ise not gone yit. Heah, yo’ drink de rest ob 
dis so’s I kin observe de action on yo ’. 


24 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Mose. Well, I guess ef it won’t kill yo’, it won’t kill me. 
Gib it heah. [Tahes glass and empties it, smacks lips 
loudly.] 

Professor. Now go outside an ’ inhale fresh air fo ’ a minit 
an’ a haf an’ when yo’ comes back, yo’s s’posed t’ be 
white. 

Mose. I hopes I ain’t only s’posed t’ be. [Exit at Left.] 

Professor. Ef it jest only wuks, my futuah is tooken ca’ 
ob. I’ll git a millium dollahs outa dis heah projec’, ’c’ase 
evah cullad pusson in de United States ’ll want some uv 
it. Dis’ll be one time dat Ise gonna reap de ha’vest ob 
success. 

[Mose outside removes his makeup, or, if burnt cork is 
used, repaints’^ himself white with Spanish whiting 
or some other harmless material.] 

Mose [from outside]. Golly, ’Fessah! I feels myse’f a- 
changin ’ in some way I cain’t un ’erstan ’. O Fessah! I 
feels jest lak Ise gonna tu’n wrong side out. 

Professor. Come on back in an’ le’s see, Mose. 

Reenter Mose from Left. He is white 

Professor [exclaims]. My projec’ am a success! Ise done 
it! Ise done it! 

Mose. Lemme to dat lookin’ glass. I wants ter see what I 
look lak. [Looks in mirror.] Golly Jehoshaphat! It 
sholy am true. Ise white as anybody. Whoopee ! 

Professor. Now, bein’s Ise foun’ dat de projec’ really will 
wuk, I’ll try it on myse’f. I won’t take but ha’f a po’tion, 
howevah, as my constitootion ain’t so strong as it might 
be. ' 

Mose. Yo’d bettah take a double po’tion t’ do y’ any good. 
Yo’s jest erbout twice as black as anybody I evah seen. 


THE PROFESSOR AND HIS PROJECT 


25 


Professor mixes some of his fluid in glass as before, then 
drinks it and sets bottle down on desk. 

Professor. Now, I’ll go git inyse’f some ai’ an’ see what 
it does t’ me. [Exit at Left.] 

Mose. Dat slioly am fine stuff. [Takes up bottle from 
desk.] It am got a good taste, too. I nevah would 
a-thought dat de ’Fessali had brains enough in dat coco¬ 
nut o’ his’ll t’ inscovah any sich a blessin’ t’ de cullad 
race. I laks dat stuff. [Drinks from bottle and throws it 
away.] Man alive, I sholy will cut a shine wid de gals 
now! I espec’s dey’ll might’ nigh wo’ship me. I’ll make 
de ’Fessah gib me some mo’ o’ dat stuff an’ I’ll fix up a 
few ob de ones I laks bes’ myse’f. [Sits at Bight.] 

Reenter Professor. [His face is half white and half 
black.] 

Professor [looks in mirror]. Great Jumpin’ Jerusalem! 
Mose, wheah is dat bottle o ’ ’lixir ? 

Mose [not looking at Professor]. What yo’ wants wid it‘^ 

Professor. I wants anothah po’tion out uv it, dat’s wliat 
I wants. 

Mose. Go ’long, ’Fessah. Don’ bothah me, Ise studyin’ up 
a nice little speech what Ise gonna make to a lady frien ’ 
o’ mine when I interdooces her to dat ma’velous licker dat 
makes black white. 

Professor. But looka heah, Mose. I needs dat ’lixir myseT 
right now. Gimme dat bottle. 

[looks around]. Land o ’ Goshen, ’Fessah ! I reckin’s 
yo ’ does. But I done drunk all dat yo ’ had in dat bottle. 
Ain’t yo’ got some mo’? 

Professor. No, I ain’t got no mo’. 

Mose. Yo’ kin make some mo’, cain’t y’? 

Professor. No, I cain’t make no mo’, ’c’ase dat in de bot¬ 
tle wuz all I had t’ go by. I wuz skeered t’ write th’ 


26 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


process down, skeered somebody might steal it. An ’ now 
yo’s drunk up all in de worU I had t’ go by U make any 
mo Well,' why don ’ yo ’ say somethin ’ ? 

Mose. All right. At fust yo’ said “Eureky! Eureky!”, 
now yo’d bettah say what I tole y’, “Snake eyes! Snake 
eyes! ’ ’ 

Professor. But holy hossbackahs! I cain’t stan’ t’ be 
lef’ ha’f black an’ ha’f white. Does yo’ think I can? 

Mose. Oh well, I dunno. ’Cordin’ t’ yo’ own wuds, ef yo’ 
jest keep drinkin ’ dis heah common United States watah, 
yo ’ll be white in ’bout two o ’ three hunerd yeahs. 


CURTAIN 


GEOEGE WASHINGTON AND THE 
HATCHET 


CHARACTERS 

George Washington as a lad of six or seven years of age 
Cicero, his negro servant^ who is slightly older than 
George 

Uncle Eph, the negro gardener 

Scene. The Washington Garden. Potted and dummy 
plants and shruhs may he used to create a realistic 
appearance. 

Enter George from Right. He carries hatchet. 

George. I see Cicero running across yonder like a scared 
rabbit. Wonder what can be his hurry. Believe I’ll call 
him over and show him my new hatchet. O Cicero! Come 
here. Seems like I scared him more than ever. 

Enter Cicero from Left with armful of wood. 
Cicero. Yassah, Massa Gawge. What am it? 

George. I wanted to show you my new hatchet. See! 

Don’t you think it’s a dandy? 

Cicero. Yas sah, dat’s a Jim-dandy-crackah Jack. 

George. Wouldn’t you like to have one like it? 

Cicero. Will a duck swim ? Sho, indeedly, I would. Am 
you got two lak dat, Massa Gawge? 

George. Not two new ones, but you may have my old one, 
if you want it, and will go get it. 

Cicero. I spec’s I orter go on an’ fotch dis heah wood t’ 
Mammy—but—whah am dat ole hatchet? 


27 


28 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


George. It’s still lying where we left it yesterday—out 
there by the well. 

Cicero. I may not be well when I gits home, but I ’ll hab 
mahse’f a hatchet, anyhow. Dis ole wood won’t rot, 
mebbe, till I gits back, an’ yo’ might change yo’ min’ 
’bout gibbin’ me dat hatchet. [Throws wood down and 
goes out at Right.] 

George [picks up a stick of wood in left hand and hacks at 
it with right ]. This hatchet was certainly well sharpened. 

Enter Uncle Eph from Left. 

Eph. Golly, Moses, Massa Gawge! What on ea’th am yo’ 
doin’? Is yo’ done cut all dat wood by yo’ lonesome wid 
dat li’l’ ax? 

George. No, no. Uncle Eph, Cicero cut it. I was just 
hacking with my new hatchet. 

Eph. Oh! Yo’ jest a hatchin’ wid yo’ new hackit. Dat 
am a purtiful li ’1 ’ ax, ain’t it ? 

George. Yes, I think it’s fine. 

Eph. Yo’ did? Wheah at did yo’ fin’ it? 

George. I didn’t find it. Father gave it to me for a 
present. 

Eph. Oh, I see. Jes’ for de present. 

George. Yes, as a present. 

Eph. An ’ ef yo ’ gits inter any meanness in de f utuah, he ’ll 
take it ’way fum yo’. 

Reenter Cicero with hatchet in his hand. 

Cicero. Look heah, pappy, what Massa Gawge done gib 
me. 

Eph. Boy, ef yo’ mammy cotches yo’ hackin’ ’roun’ de 
house, she sho gwine a gib yo’ sumpin sha’pah dan dat. 

George. We won’t hack on the houses. Uncle Eph. 

Eph. Bettah he sho yo’don’t, young Massa. De ole Massa 
he sho gwine git yo’ boys, ef yo’ all does. 


GEORGE WASHINGTON AND THE HATCHET 29 


George. Never mind about us, Uncle Eph. Well get 
along all right. 

Eph. Yassah, I knows yo’ all’s a sight. Dat’s jest what 
Ise talkin’ ’bout. But Ise got ter move along now an’ 
trim dat hedge. Spect dat yo’ all’ll ’bout be de nex’ t’ 
git trimmed. 

Exit Eph at Left, 

Cicero. Us hopes not, pappy, anyhow. 

George. Uncle Eph is getting deafer every day. 

Cicero. Yas, sah. Mammy, she said dat he wuz deefer’n 
a stump now. 

George. Aunt Chloe gets pretty close onto Uncle Eph, 
doesn’t she? 

Cicero. Close onter ’im? She gits right onter ’im. 

George [clips at stick with his hatchet]. Look how sharp 
my hatchet is, Cicero. 

Cicero [takes up a stick and tries his hatchet]. Dis heali 
am duller’ll a fro. But hit’s a fine hatchet, anyhow. 

George. You can sharpen it, Cicero. 

Cicero. Yas sah, dat’s what I aimtends t’ do fust time I 
gits a chanst t ’ sneak mammy’s whet-rock outa de kitchen. 

George. What’s the use to sneak it out ? Why don’t you 
go ask her to let you use it ? 

Cicero. Who? Mammy? No sah, not dis chile. I jest as 
soon ask a wile cat f o ’ one ob huh kittens. Mammy thinks 
mo ’ ob dat rock dan she do ob me an ’ pappy bofe togeddah. 

George [feels edge of hatchet with thuml)]. I don’t believe 
you ever can get your hatchet as sharp as mine. 

Cicero. I dunno, sah, Ise a purty good whettah. 

George. Yes, but just look how sharp this is. I believe I 
can cut this sprout at one blow. [Indicates a dummy 
sprout near him.] 


30 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Cicero [laughs]. No, Massa, I don’ b’lieve yo’ could blow 
it down all day. 

George. I mean cut it. 

Cicero. Le’s see can yo’, Massa Gawge. 

George. All right. [He strikes at the sprout, which he 
then lifts in his left hand.] I did. 

Cicero. Yo’ sho did. Dat hatchet mus’ be awful sha’p. 

George. It is, I tell you. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised 
if I couldn’t cut your head off at one blow, too. 

Cicero. No sah. [Retreating.] I knows yo’ cain’t do dat. 
I don’ keer how sha’p yo’ hatchet is, yo’ jes natcherally 
cain’t git close enough to me fo’ dat. 

George. Oh, well, no need to get frightened, Cicero, I 
wouldn’t try anything like that. 

Cicero. Anyhow, I feels bettah a few foots away fum you, 
Massa Gawge. 

George. There is Uncle Eph again. He may not believe 
that I cut this at one stroke, but I can prove it by you, 
can’t I, Cicero? 

Reenier Uncle Eph from Left. 

Eph. Golly-ma-diddle, Massa Gawge, what’s dat yo’s cut 
down, now? 

George. A sprout, and I cut it at one whack, too. Didn’t 
I, Cicero ? 

Cicero. He sho did, pappy. 

Eph takes sprout and looks at it caref ully. 

Eph. Good lan^ o’ livin’, boy, dat ain’t no kin’ o’ sprout 
fo’ you t’ be cuttin’ down wid one lick or fo’ty. Dat’s 
liable to git you a lick. Why, boy, dat’s one ob yo’ 
pappy’s cherry trees what he done had fetched ovah heah 
fum Englum. 


GEORGE WASHINGTON AND THE HATCHET 31 


Cicero throws his hatchet away. 

Cicero. Um Golly! Dat’s wuss an ’ mo ’ ob it. 

George. Are you in earnest, Uilcle Eph? 

Eph. No, I ain’t in de furnice. I knows what Ise talkin’ 
’bout. Massa Washingtum thought mo ’ ob dat one measly 
sprout dan de did ob nary boss or niggah on de place. 

Cicero takes sprout and tries to put it hack in place. 

Cicero. Le’s see can us stick it back an ’ mebbe it ’ll grow. 

George. No, it won’t grow now, Cicero. 

Cicero. Well, mebbe Massa Washingtum wouldn’t know 
de dif’runce till ’twuz too late t’ fi’ out how come it died. 

George. That wouldn’t be right. 

Cicero. Hit’d be mo’ right t’ me dan ketchin’ a whale ob 
a beatin ’, Massa Gawge. 

Eph. Spec’s yo’ bettah let me tell ’im dat I cut it by mis¬ 
took, Massa Gawge. He knows dat dese heah ole eyes o’ 
mine ain’t much punkins any mo’ an’ he won’t ’buse me 
much. 

George. No, I won’t let you do that either. Uncle Eph. I 
did the mischief and I will take the blame. I’ll go right 
now and tell father. [Exit at Bight.] 

Eph. Dat’s a fine lad, Cicero. Is yo ’ heahed him say how 
he gonna take de blame? He ain’ gonna hab ole Eph git 
no ’busement on his ’count. No sah, he takes de blame. 
[Exit Eph at Right, Cicero picks up scattered pieces 
of wood.] 

Cicero. Yeah, I heahs mammy callin’ me. Massa Gawge, 
he gonna take de blame an’ tell de trufe, lak he ginrally 
do, an’ git out o’ trouble. But I knows what’s a-comin’ 
when I gits to de house. I’ll let Massa Gawge take de 
blame an’ IB take de sprout. [Picks up sprout and 
walks slowly off stage as curtain falls.] 


LOVIN’ LEROY 


CHARACTEKS 

Leroy, who is badly smitten and Caroline the smiter 
Discovered Caroline, before glass, primping. 

Caroline. Leroy will soon be here now, I guess. He is 
always on time a-gittin ’ here, if he is slow after he comes. 
But mebbe I c’n git a move on ’im purty soon. I know 
he likes me better’n any uv th’ other gals, but he’s so 
plagu-ed bashful that he cain’t git his mouth open to pop 
th’ question. 

Enter Leroy. He turns around and knocks on side of 
door after entering. He wears extremely tight-fitting 
trousers and coat, and large tie. 

Caroline [without turning]. Come in. 

Leroy. I cain’t. 

Caroline. Cain’t? What’s th’ matter uv y’ now? Ye 
hain’t fastened, are y ’ ? 

Leroy. Nope, but I cain’t come in ’cause I’m done an’ in. 
Te, he,, he. 

Caroline [turns about]. You Leroy. You are such a 
funny boy. 

Leroy. Yeah, I know it. ’Tother day I’s a-countin’ my 
ribs an’ I got tickled nearly to death at myse’f. 

Caroline. Well, have off yer hat, an’ set down a spell. 
Leroy. Naou. I don’t wanta do that. 

Caroline. Well, what are y’ gonna do, then? Stan’ there 
in th’ middle uv th’ room like a gander on one leg? 
Leroy. I ain’t a-standin’ on one laig. But say, do you 
know how long a goose c ’n stan ’ on one foot ? 


32 


LOVIN’ LEROY 


33 


Caroline. No. I don’t know. 

Leroy [giggling]. Try it and see. 

Caroline. Aw, you set down an’ shet up. 

Leroy. Le’s see, now. You want me to shet down an’ set 
up. Is that it? 

Caroline. Leroy, you’ve jest got one brain in your head 
an’ it’s mildewed. 

Leroy. Well, ain’t beauty better’n brains anyhow? 

Caroline. Might be, ef a body had it. 

Leroy. Well, you’re shore outa luck then, ain’t ye? 

Caroline. I said while ago fer you to shet yer mouth. 
[Leroy claps hand to jaw and thus extravagantly closes 
mouth. Then begins to grimace and gesture frantically.] 

Caroline. Well, what on earth is it? Speak. 

Leroy. I jest wanted to know ef I c’d open my mouth, ef 
I wouldn’t say nothin’. 

Caroline. Go ahead an’ open it, then. You never do say 
anything that amounts to anything nohow. 

Leroy. So I c’n open my mouth, then? 

Caroline. Yes. An’ I want y ’ to say sumpin that amounts 
to sumpin, too, but don’t open yer mouth so wide. It 
scares me. Makes me think yer head’s cavin’ in. 

Leroy. Well, Great Gee Whilikens! Ef my mouth wuz as 
big as yourn, I’d have sixteen stitches taken in each 
corner. 

Caroline. Now Leroy, you ought to be ashamed. 

Leroy. Me ? Why, I never made yer mouth. 

Caroline. You oughtn’t to talk so—my mouth could have 
been bigger. 

Leroy. I don’t see how, less’n yer yeahs wuz set back 
further. 

Caroline. Aw, Leroy, all you think about is a bag of 
foolishness. 


34 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Leroy. Yeah, that’s partly right. I think uv you a whole 
lot. 

Caroline. Shore nuff ? But don ’t make no difference how 
much you think about me, when you git around me, you 
cain’t git yer mouth open fer nothin’. 

Leroy. Who? Me? Why, I betcha right now I c’d 
swaller that door knob. [He drops his hat in chair be¬ 
hind himself and fidgets with coat ] 

Caroline. I don’t mean op’nin’ yer mouth that way, 
Leroy. 

Leroy. Well, I c’n put a hen aig in it then. 

Caroline. No. Not that, either. Set down [pushes him 
hack into chair on his hat] an’ I’ll tell ye. I mean op’nin ’ 
yer mouth to say somethin ’. 

Leroy. Well, jest tell me somethin’ an’ see ef I cain’t say 
it, then. [Seems suddenly to realize that he is sitting on 
hat. Puts hand under himself and draws hat out to view.] 
Now, dog take my cats ef that wuzn’t a mean trick, Caro¬ 
line. [Views hat mournfully.] Th’ onliest an’ bestes’ 
Sunday-go-to-meetin’ hat I got, too. Ef I knowed you 
done that a-purpose, I’d lose my temper right here. I’ll 
be squizzelled ef that ain’t a purty come off, shore nuff. 

Caroline. Why, Leroy, don’t git excited. Tain’t nothin’. 

Leroy. Ain’t nothin’? It’s s’posed to be a hat. I guess 
that’s somethin’. 

Caroline. Leroy, Leroy. Ca’m yerese’f. 

Leroy. I’m a mind to ca’m you. 

Caroline. How’d I know where yer hat wuz? Why 
didn’t you use yer eyes ? 

Leroy. I wuz a-usin’ ’em. 

Caroline. Lemme see that hat. Why, it ain’t hurt. 
[Straightens it out.] Needs to be rubbed off a little’s all. 
Here. [Hands hat hack to him.] I’ll go git a soft rag 
an rub it up a bit fer ye. [Goes over to one side and 


LOVIN’ LEROY 


35 


takes up a large cloth which she tears. However, just as 
she tears the cloth Leroy, ivho has dropped his hat, stoops 
to recover same. Leroy hears cloth tear, thinks it is his 
coat that is torn. He jerks erect without picking up hat 
and hacks into corner.] 

Caroline, [returning with cloth]. Here now, lemme have 
that hat. 

Leroy. There it is. Git it. 

Caroline. Why, Leroy, I’m s’prised at you. 

Leroy. Yeah, I’m kinda s’prised myse’f. 

Caroline. What made you throw yer hat down that way ? 

Leroy. Oh, jest fer fun. 

Caroline. Well, why don’t you pick it up? 

Leroy. You can. I don’t want to. 

Caroline. Have you got th’ rheumatism? 

Leroy. Yeah, I guess y’ might call it that, ef y’ want to. 

Caroline. Oh well, ef you air jest a-tryin’ me out to see 
ef I’d do anything fer ye, I’ll pick it up. [Takes up hat 
and rubs it off with cloth, then claps it on his head, pull¬ 
ing it well down over his ears.] Now, there! You look 
like th’ heir to a million. 

Leroy. Yeah? I don’t feel like it, though. 

Caroline. I didn’t ever notice before now how well yore 
clo’es become you. Why they look like they wuz jest 
made fer nobody else but you. 

Leroy. I guess that’s right, too. Nobody else wouldn’t 
have ’em. 

Caroline. Leroy, you’se so good lookin’. 

Leroy. Aw, git out now. Car ’line. 

Caroline. I mean it. You’re a dear, ef you wuzn’t so 
back’ard. 

Leroy. I guess you’d back up like this too— 

Caroline. Now, Leroy, you don’t need to be uneasy about 
me. I won’t hurt you. I know you’ve got faults an’ 


36 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


failin’s, but that don’t make no difference. Come on an ’ 
be yourse’f. I c’n shet my eyes to lots a things. 

Leroy. Yeah, but what about all these heah people? [In¬ 
dicates audience.] 

Caroline. Don’t worry about them. 

Leroy. AVhy, they c’n see. 

Caroline. That don’t make no difference. They wuz all 
young an’ in love wunst too, I guess. 

Leroy. Hot dawg! Are you in love. Car ’line? 

Caroline. Why shore. Ain’t you? 

Leroy. Yeah, but I been a-skeered to tell you. 

Caroline. Why, Leroy! You didn’t think that I’d bite 
you, did you? 

Leroy. I didn’t know what you might do an’ I wouldn’t 
be so bold now, mebbe, ef I c’d see good. 

Caroline [goes to him]. Your hat is over your eyes, ain’t 
it? [Starts to raise his hat.] 

Leroy. Let it alone. Let it alone. I c’n talk better that 
way. You see, as long as I had my eyes open so I c’d 
see you, I couldn’t see how easy it’d be to talk to you 
’bout what I wanted to say. But now that my eyes is 
covered up I c’n see what a fine gal you are. 

Caroline. Wliat do you mean ? When you eyes wuz open 
you coiddn't see, but now when they’re th’ same as shut 
you can see? 

Leroy. I mean, ef you’ll come over here I’ll kiss you. 

Caroline. 0 Leroy! I ’ll call ma. 

Leroy. I don’t want to kiss her. 

Caroline. Why don’t you come away from that wall ? 

Leroy. Oh— a—er I need some backin’, I guess. 

Caroline. You needn’t be a-skeered. I ’ll come over there. 

Leroy. Hot dawg 1 

curtain as Caroline starts toward him. 


SALVATION AM FREE 


CHARACTERS 

Deacon Hamstrung . an enemy of the parson 

Elder Killjoy . more tolerant 

Sister Breezy . an open admirer of the parson 

Brother Thinklittle . who belies his name 

Brother Gooseberry . jealous of Sister Breezy 

The Parson . who gets in a hole but gets out 

Any number of nonspeaking players for the congregation. 

Scene: A rude negro church 

Discovered: all of the characters save The Parson, seated 
near pulpit. 

Deacon Hamstrung. Teahs lak de Pa’son am somewhat 
indigent in makin’ his ’rival dis mawnin’. 

Elder Killjoy. Le ’s not be too seveah on de Pa’son. He’s 
jes’ human lak us is an’ needs t’ hab some ’lowances made 
fo’ him de same as anybody. Yo’ all knows he ain’t 
nevah been late t’ preachin’ heaht’fo’ less’n he had some 
good an’ valued reason. 

Sister Breezy. Amen, Bruddah Killjoy! I feels jes’ lak 
yo ’ does dat dis am a time fo ’ us t ’ remonstrate ouah love 
devotion fo’ ouah pastoh. 

Brother Thinklittle. Boun’ fo’ Sistah Breezy t’ hoi’ 
up fo’ de Pa’son. Dat’s wheah he am got his towah ob 
stren’th is in de wimmen. 

Brother Gooseberry. Dat makes me think, mebbe dat’s 
de reason dat de Towah ob Babel diden do no bettah wuz 
cause de wimmen got mixed up in it. 


37 








38 


FUNNY PLAYS FOK HAPPY DAYS 


Sister Breezy. Ef de wiramen’d hadn’t nuthin t’ do wid 
it, dat towah’d a-been a-standin’ t’day, Bruddah Goose¬ 
berry. Yassah, hit’d a-been replenished, too. 

Enter The Parson 

Parson. Well, Breddern an’ Sistern, Ise heah at las’. 

All rise and shake hands with The Parson hut Deacon 
Hamstrung. 

Sister Breezy. Us is sho glad t’ see yo’ smilin’ complex- 
ium once mo’. 

Brother Thinklittle. Indeed us is, pastoh. Yo’ pres¬ 
ence wahms up ouah h’a’ts lak a hot rock wahms a sick 
kitten. 

Brother Gooseberry. Us had ’bout d ’cided dat yo ’ wuzn’t 
gonna git heah dis time, sho. 

Parson. Well, sah, hit did seem lak it, sho. But I had a 
misfo ’tunate esperience at mah house dis mawnin ’. 

Elder Killjoy. Sho nuff? 

Parson. Uh huh, sho nuff. Yo’ see, jest as I wuz about 
ready t’ leave home, mah little boy Gawge—yo’ all 
knows Gawge? 

All nod in the affirmative. 

Parson. Well, Gawge opened mah chicken coop do’ an’ 
all de chickens tried t’ go home. 

Sister Breezy. Um-m-m! Dat wuz awful. 

Brother Thinklittle. Did yo’ evah git ’em back? 

Parson. Mos all ob ’em. One or two got so near deir 
homes, wid me an’ de old womern an’ de chillern right 
atter ’em, dat us had t’ stop an’ come back. 

Extras come in to fill up congregation. 


SALVATION AM FREE 


39 


Deacon Hamstrung. Well, Pa’son, de mawnin’ houahs 
will soon be disinterrogated an’ as de congergation seems 
t’ be ’bout all heah, I guess us had bettah open up de 
sarvices. 

Parson. Dat’s a fac, Brudder Hamstrung, us had. Fust 
le’s sing. Sistah Breezy, select sumpin an’ lead it. 

Sister Breezy. De o’gan am busted; I’ll hab t’ lead it by 
de yeah. 

Elder Killjoy. Dat’s as good a way t’ lead anything as 
any. 

Sister Breezy Le’s all stan’ den an’ sing [names some 
old-time negro spiritual with which those taking part in 
the play are familiar.] 

All stand and sing. 

Parson [at close of song]. Now mah deahly belubbed— 

Deacon Hamstrung. See ’im lookin’ right straight at Sis¬ 
tah Breezy? 

Parson. All ob yo’ please be seated. 

Congregation sits. 

Parson. Now, befo’ makin’ any mo’ headway o’ goin’ 
fu’thah, I wishes t’ denounce de title ob mah subjeck fo’ 
de mawnin’ disco’se. Ise gwinter lucydate t’ yo’ all dis 
beautiful an’ blessed Sabbath on de subjeck ob “Sal¬ 
vation Am Free.” Is yo’ all heahed dat? I mean by 
dem wuds dat salvation don’ cos’ nothin’. Dat’s a fac’ 
too. Salvation Am Free. 

Chorus of “Amen’s” from congregation. 

Parson. But now,~ befo’ I takes up mah subjeck and 
makes reco ’se on it, dere am sumpin else dat am got t ’ be 
did. Brudder Gooseberry, will yo’ take up de reg-lah 
mawnin’ off’rin’? 


40 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Brother Gooseberry rises to do so. 

Deacon Hamstrung. HoF on a minit dar, Pa’son. Does 
yo ’ means t ’ say clat yo ’ am now gonna ax us t ’ gib yo ’ 
money ? 

Parson. I mos’ sholy does. 

Deacon Hamstrung. Diden yo’ jest now tole us dat ^‘Sal¬ 
vation Am Free’^f 

Parson [perplexed], Yassah, I—said— 

Deacon Hamstrung. Well, how come den, ef Salvation 
Am Free, dat yo’s gonna cha ’ge us fo ’ it ? 

Parson. Well, let me esplain. 

Deacon Hamstrung [triumphantly], Esplain nothin', 
Pa’son, yo’s done interdicted yo’se’f. 

Parson [suddenly brightening]. No, I ain’t neithah. Yo’ 
lissen t’ me. Deacon Hamstrung, an’ all de res’ ob yo’ 
niggahs, an’ I’ll esplain t’ yo’ all what I means an’ 
what I does an ’ why I does it! 

Sister Breezy. Amen! 

Parson. I said Salvation Am Free an’ I repeats Salvation 
Am Free, It am. Bless de Lawd! 

Chorus of “Amen’s.” 

Parson. So am watah free. God gib it to us outa his 
magnolius love. 

Chorus of “Amen’s.” 

Parson. Yassah, de watah dat flows in de ribbahs, de 
watah dat flows in de cricks, de watah dat flows in de 
brooks, am all free. ’Cause hit don’ cos’ nothin’. Bless 
de Lawd, yo’ kin go lay down on yo’ stummick by de side 
o’ one o’ dem streams o’ streamlets an’ drink yo’ thirsty 
fill an ’ it won’t cost yo ’ one cent. It’s Free. 

Deacon Hamstrung. Amen. 


SALVATION AM FREE 


41 


Parson. But lissen heah V me, Bruddah Hamstrung. 
S’posin’ yo’ wants dat same watali dat am so full an’ so 
free in de streams pumped inter yo' house, does yo’ git 
dat free? No, yo’ don’t. No sah, yo’ pays fo’ it. Not 
fo’ de watah, ’cause de watali am free. But yo’ has t’ 
pay fo’ gittin’ it pumped to you. Yassah, Salvation Am 
Free too, but I changes fo’ pumpin’ it to yo’ all. Brothah 
Gooseberry, go on wid de c’lection. 


CURTAIN 


MAEIE MISSES MAEEIAGE 

CHARACTEKiS 

Marie Gray . the heroine 

Hank Hefley . the hero 

Silas Barberry .. Marie’s uncle 

Phoebe Barberry . Marie’s aunt 

Scene: Living-room of Barberry farm home. 

Enter Silas from Right, carrying a bundle of papers and 
packages. He piles them on table at Center. 

Silas. I guess Phoeby musta been orderin ’ some more from 
them mail order houses at She-caw-go. Wonder what it 
is she’s sent for this time. I hope it ain’t no more patent 
pertater peelers that’ll leave ’bout ha’f th’ peelin’ on, 
like them did she ordered a spell back. 

[During this time he has been inspecting the mail piece 
by piece. He picks up a letter.] 

Silas. Wo! Here ’s a letter. Phoeby! 0 Phoeby 1 Phoeby, 
here’s a letter. 

Enter Phoebe from Left, wiping hands on apron. 

Phoebe [hand to ear]. Hey? 

Silas. Here’s a letter. 

Phoebe. Yes, I feel some better. 

Silas. I said, ‘‘Here’s a letter.” 

Enter Hank from Right. 

Phoebe. Hey ? 

Hank. What d’y want with it? 


42 






MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 


43 


Silas. Letter. Letter, I tell ye. Letter. 

Hank. Letter? I ain’t keepin’ ’er from nothin’. 

Silas. Aw, thunderation! You all ain’t nary one got th’ 
brains it takes t’ git in th’ ’sylum. 

Hank. Well, you wouldn’t have no trouble, I c’n tell y’ 
that. You’ve jest about got th’ required amount. 

Silas. Don’t git smart, young man. I won’t stand fer it. 
Hank. Well, set down when y ’ git ready. 

Silas. I mean that I won’t endure yer smart Aleckin’. 
Hank. I never heerd uv that bran’ before. I got some 
Prince Albert, ef that’d do y’ any good. 

Silas. That’s enough nonsense fer a while now. Hank. 
You’re on th’ side nex’.to Phoeby’s good ear. Here, 
read this letter to ’er. 

Hands letter to Hank, who looks at postmark. 

Hank. “Cart o’ hogs, Missoury—” 

Silas. That’s Carthage, Hank. 

Hank. Now who’s gonna read this letter, me or you ? 
Silas. You are, but I wanted to tell what that was, so 
Phoeby’d know who it wuz from soon as she heerd it. 
Hank. All right then. [Reads.^ “Carthage, Missoury, 
July the first.” 

Phoebe. Aw, open th’ letter an’ read it. We don’t keer 
’bout what’s on th’ outside. It’s th’ inside that we want 
t’ hear. 

Hank tears envelope and produces letter, which he gazes 
at fixedly for a few moments. 

Silas. Well, why don’t you read it, ef you’re goin’ to? 
Hank. I cain’t. 

Phoebe. Cain’t? What’s th’ matter with you, Hank 
Hefiey? Have you gone blin’? 


44 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Hank. No. This here fool letter’s writ upside down. I 
ain’t gonna stan’ on my head t’ read it, I know. 

Silas. Aw, turn th’ letter over. 

Hank turns letter about and reads. 

Hank [reads]. “Cart o’ hogs—” I mean “Carthage, Mis- 
soury, July the first. Mr. and Missus Silas Barberry, 
Dear Brother and Sister—” 

Phoebe. Mus’ be from Sister Emmeline. 

Silas. Er maybe from my sister Vi’let. 

Phoebe. Vi’let never does write t’ me an’ you know it, 
Silas. 

Silas. Well, go on, then, Hank, an’ we’ll see. 

Hank. I’m a-goin’ on, ef y’all hush blabbin’ long enough 
fer me t’ git a chance. 

Hank [reads from letter again]. “I am terribly upset about 
Marie. She has got her head set to marry a man that is 
not in her set—” 

Silas [interrupting] . Seems t’ be a lot o’ settin’ goin’ on. 

Hank [continuing]. “An’ I’ve set my foot down that she 
sha’n’t marry him, so I’m sendin’ her t’ stay with you th’ 
summer. Yours dis”—somethin’ or other—I don’ know 
what that is—“Emme-line Gray.” 

Silas. Well, now, that shore does jest beat a hen a-peckin 
Did you hear all uv that, Phoeby ? 

Phoebe. Part uv it. She said she’d had bad luck with ’er 
chickens, didn’t she ? 

Hank. Jest only one uv ’em ’s all. 

Silas [shouts in Phoebe’s ear]. No, she said Marie had 
hatched up a case with a bad egg an’ so she’s sendin’ ’er 
out here t’ stay under your wing t’ keep that bird from 
featherin’ his nest at Marie’s expense. 

Phoebe. Marie? Marie Gray? Sister Emmeline’s child? 
When’s she cornin’? 


MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 


45 


Silas. When, Hank ? 

Hank. Good lands, I ain’t no magicium. I dunno when 
she’ll be here. 

Silas. Why, look at th’ letter again. 

Hank. Th’ letter don’t say. I looked t’see at first. 

Silas [takes letter from Hank]. Let me have it, simpleton. 
You’re too thick-headed fer anything. 

Hank. Well, the’ shore ain’t nobody c’n see through that 
punkin on yore shoulders. 

Phoebe. Does it say when she’ll be here? 

Silas. Don’t say. 

Hank. Now, I tol’ y’ it didn’t, didn’t I? Now, whose 
head is th’ thickest, Mr. Barberry? 

Silas. Aw, shut up. Hank. Looka here—this letter has 
been missent. It wuz mailed a week ago. 

Hank. Th’ gal might a-been missent, too. 

Silas. Do you mean t’ insinuate that this wouldn’t be a 
good place fer a young lady ? 

Hank. No ! No, sir. I think this’d be th ’ very place fer 
any gal. Nice old folks—good lookin’ hired han’—yeah, 
this’d be th’ very place fer Ma-ree. 

Silas. Well, what d’y mean by say in’ that she wuz mis¬ 
sent then? 

Hank. Well, she might acccidentally-a-purpose got on th’ 
wrong train an’ went t’ meet this yere bird that ’er ma 
wuz cacklin’ so about. 

Silas. There might be somethin’ to that, but we’ll hope 
not, anyway. 

Hank [fervently]. A-men. 

Silas. Phoeby, reckin we’d hadn’t orter kinda pearten 
things up a bit? Y’ know Marie’s been used t’ town 
style. 


46 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Hank. Yeah, y'all slick up th’ house. She's liable t' pop 
in most any minute now. Aunt Phoeby, you put clean 
scarfs an' tidies on ever 'thing—Uncle Silas, you better 
draw some water an' bring in some wood, an' milk, an 
feed, an’ git all th’ work done up early. 

Exit Phoebe Left. 

Silas. You onery pup! What you think I've got you 
hired fer ? What are you gonna do ? 

Hank. Who? Me? Why, I'm gonna dress. 

Silas. You 're gonna dress ? 

Hank. Yeah, I'm gonna show Ma-ree that though I’m a 
country boy, I got city ways. 

Silas [regarding Hank dubiously]. You’ve shore got some 
kinda ways that's gonna git you in bad—I know that. 

Hank starts off at Left. 

Silas [catches Hank]. Hey, come back here! Now back 
up an' Stan’ still. 

Hank. What's th' matter with you, you ole hypo-pot-a- 
mustard ? 

Silas. Dog take my cats, ef you won’t fin’ out what’s th' 
matter an' that purty soon, too, ef you don’t git yourse’f 
out t’ that barn an’ do up yer work. [Collars Hank.] 
You’re a fine specimen— you are. You look like settin’ 
up to a gal, don’t you? [Kicks Hank.] 

Hank. Guess I’ll hafta stand up to ’er now. 

Silas. Now, young man, you be shore t' remember who’s 
th’ boss aroun’ here from now on. 

Hank. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I’ll shore do it. Don’t know 
what made me git sich notions in my head, anyway. 
Must a-seen a vision or somethin ’, I reckin. 

Silas [kicks Hank again]. Git outa here! 

Hank. Oh golly! I seen stars then. 


MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 


47 


Exit Hank at Bight. 

Silas. That boy is shore a tryin ’ case. He’s another sam¬ 
ple uv a strong back an’ a weak mind. [Tarns toward 
Bight.] My goodness goshness! There’s somebody a- 
drivin’ up to th’ front now. It must be Marie. 

Hank [outside]. Howdy, Miss. Howdy. Git out an’ come 
right in. 

Silas [rushes to door at Left]. Phoeby! 0 Phoeby! 
Marie’s come. 

Enter Phoebe from Left and Marie and Hank from 
Bight at same time. Hank carries a load of suitcases 
and hat boxes. 

Marie [rushes to Phoebe and embraces her]. 0 Aunt 
Phoebe! How are you by now? 

Phoebe blubbers. 

Hank. She’s still deef. 

Marie [goes to Silas]. And Uncle Silas! Why, you 
haven’t changed a bit since I saw you three years ago. 

Hank. He’s a lot uglier an ’ crankier. 

Marie [kisses Silas]. You’re a dear anyway. Uncle Silas, 
and I love you as much as ever. 

Hank. Well, ef that’s th’ way you treat all th’ deers, I’ll 
jest let y’ know that I’m one, too. Ole Barberry there 
calls me a buck all th ’ time. 

Phoebe. Who’s that out there in th ’ car, Marie ? 

Marie. Oh, that is—why, that is a young man whom I met 
to-day. He was looking for a nice country home where he 
could ‘Spend the summer. I forget his name, but I 
thought there would be no harm in bringing him out to 
see if you could keep him. 

Hank. Looks like he’d hafta be put on ice, ef y ’ keep ’im. 


48 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Silas [suspiciously]. How come you to meet ’im, Marie? 

Marie. Why—I—didn’t exactly meet him, Uncle Silas. 

Hank. I guess maybe he met you. 

Marie. No, he overtook me. 

Phoebe. He done what? 

Marie. He overtook me. You see, when I got off the 
train, I found no one had come to meet me. 

Hank. Yer ma’s letter got misconstrued. 

Silas. Misdirected, Hank. We didn’t get it until to-day, , 
Marie. 

Marie. Well, I remembered the way perfectly, so I left my 
baggage and started out to walk, but I hadn’t gone far 
when this young man overtook me and offered to bring 
me out here, if I’d help him to find a summer boarding 
place. I accepted his offer, so, as it was not far back to 
the station, I had him drive back for my baggage and 
here we are. Will you keep him. Aunt Phoebe ? 

Phoebe. We’ll keep him to-night, at least. 

Hank. I’d a-met you at th’ station myse’f ef I’d a-knowed 
it in time. 

Marie. I thank you ever so much, but— 

Hank. My name ain’t Bud. It’s Hank. 

Silas. If you had thought to call us on the telephone, we 
could have made arrangements to git you. 

Hank. I’m gonna try t ’ make them arrangements yit. 

Silas [severely]. You’d better make arrangements t’ git 
yore night work done afore I make arrangements t’ git 
me a new hired han’. 

Hank. You bet I will. I forgot that, Mr. Barberry. G’-by 
Ma-ree, till I git back. 

Exit Hank at Right. 

Marie. What is the matter with that boy? 

Phoebe. Who? Hank? 


MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 


49 


Marie. Yes. He acts so very strangely. 

Phoebe. Aw, the’ ain’t nuthin’ th’ matter with ’im in 
partic’lar. He acts that way about ever’ purty gal he 
sees. 

Marie. Then I don’t suppose his heart is really affected. 

Silas. No, no. Just his head. 

Phoebe. Take off your hat an’ set down, dear. I know 
you must be tired. 

Marie. Yes, thank you, aunt. [Sits.] But aren’t you 
going to ask Fra—the young man out there, to come in ? 

SiLz\s. We’d orter ask ’im in, I guess. I plumb forgot 
about that. I’ll go right now. 

Phoebe. Shore, we’ll keep him to-night, if no more. I 
never turned a stranger from my door in my life. 

Silas. Is he a nice feller, Marie? 

Marie. Sure, he is—that is, from what I’ve seen of him, 
he is quite a gentleman. 

Silas. I ’ll fetch ’im in, then. 

Exit Silas at Right. 

Phoebe. Just sit where you are now, dear, an’ rest yerse’f. 
I must go an’ look at my bread that I left in th’ oven. 

Exit Phoebe at Left. 

Marie. Oh, things are working out tip-top. I couldn’t 
wish for anything better. 

Enter Hank at Center. 

Hank. Say, Ma-ree, is that feller a friend o ’ yourn ? 

Marie. What fellow? 

Hank. That goggle-eyed feller that fetched you here in 
that gas wagon. 

Marie. Why—what makes you ask that? 


50 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Hank. ’Cause Ole Barberry’s bulldog has got ’im treed 
out yonder in th’ pasture* an’ it all depen’s on what you 
say whether I call ’im off or not. 

Marie [excitedly]. Oh! Will he hurt him? 

Hank. Not that dog. 

Marie. I’m glad of that, then. 

Hank. No, sir, he won’t hurt that dog. Nobody never 
has yit. 

Marie. I—don’t quite understand. 

Hank. Well, th’ ain’t nobody never hurt ole Tige yit 
’thout him leavin’ plenty o’ signs on th’ one that did it. 

Marie. Oh dear! 

Hank. Don’t call me them pet names yit fer a while. 

Marie. I hope Fra—I mean—I hope the driver doesn’t get 
bitten by mistake. 

Hank. Don’t worry. Ef ole Tige bites ’im, it won’t be by 
mistake. It’ll be a-purpose. 

Marie. Is he really vicious ? 

Hank. No, ma’am, he’s bulldog. 

Marie. I mean, is he terrible ? 

Hank. I told y’ he wuz a bulldog, didn’t I? The’ ain’t 
no terrier ’bout ’im.. 

Marie. Oh goodness! 

Hank. What I wanta know is this: Is that feller out 
there anything to you? 

Marie. Hank, you surely wouldn’t see a savage dog tear a 
fellow human being into shreds, would you ? 

Hank. That ain’t th’ question. I said, is that feller out 
there anything to you, more or less ? 

Marie. Well, I’ll answer your question; then you must 
answer mine. I have the same interest in him just now 
that I might have in any man in the street. 

Hank. Yeah, but he ain’t in no street. He’s up a tree. 


MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 51 

Marie. Well, you won’t see him torn by that brute, will 
you? 

Hank. I tell you ole Tige ain’t nothin’ but bulldog. But 
I won’t see him et up. No, I won’t see ’im. 

Marie. I knew you were brave and unselfish. 

Hank. As I wuz sayin’, I won’t see ’im et up, fer I won’t 
go out there t ’ look. 

Marie [wrings hands ]. Oh! Mercy! 

Hank. What’s a matter? He ain’t gonna bite yon. 

Marie. Hank, for humanity’s sake, go call that dog off! 

Hank. Not fer Hugh Nobody’s sake will I go call no dog 
offa that feller, ’less ’n you say he ain’t nothin ’ to y ’ nor 
won’t ever be nothin’. 

Marie. Heavens! I’m afraid he ’ll be a corpse, if some¬ 
thing isn’t done. 

Hank. Don’t worry. There’ll be somethin’ done. 

Marie. Well, why don’t you go on and do it, then? 

Hank. I nev$r said I’d do nothin’, did I? I said there’d 
be somethin’ done. Ole Tige ’ll take care o’ that. 

Marie. Hank, please go call off your dog. 

Hank. I ain’t got no dog. Never had but one an ’ she wuz 
a Spitz. 

Marie. A Spitz? 

Hank. Yeah. Jest a little squirt, y’ know. 

Marie. What became of your little Spitz? 

Hank. She died. I expectorate somethin’ pison, mebbe. 

Marie. Shame on me to forget the awful predicament 
Frank is in. 

Hank. He ain’t in no per-dicky-ment. He’s up in a per¬ 
simmon tree. 

Marie. Hank, go save him and I shall always be grateful 
to you. 

Hank. All right. I’ll do it, ef you’ll always be faithful 
t’ me. 


52 FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 

Marie. I said grateful. 

Hank. I know y’ said faithful. 

Marie. Go on and call the dog off, Hank. 

Hank. We ain’t got no dog. I cain’t call ’im off. 

Marie. Whose dog is it, then? Go shoot him, if you can t 
do any better. 

Hank [grabs shotgun from corner]. All right. I’ll shore 
do that. Reckin y’ c’n drive ’is car, or had I better make 
’im show me how before I shoot ’im? 

Marie. What on earth are you talking about? 

Hank. You said, “Shoot ’im,” didn’t y’? 

Marie. Shoot whom ? 

Hank. That feller that druv y’ here. 

Marie [rushes to Hank and grabs gun]. Oh no! Don’t 
do that 1 I’ll go shoot the dog myself, if you’ll show me 
where he is. 

Hank. The’ ain’t no dog t’ shoot. 

Marie. But you said there was. 

Hank. I wuz jest a-foolin’ ’bout that. 

Marie. But where is Fra—the young man, then ? He isn’t 
in his car. 

Hank. Oh! Him? He’s oht behin’ th’ barn puttin’ on 
some dry clo’es. [Laughs] 

Marie. Dry clothes? Hank, what did you do to him? 

11 \NK [laughs]. Me? I never done nothin’. 

Marie. Well, what is so funny, then ? How did he get wet ? 

Hank. Why, th’ big boob jumped in th’ pon’. 

JMarie. In the pond? Now, Hank, you had something to 
do with this, I’m sure. 

Hank. No, ma’am. I never done a thing to ’im. 

Marie. Then how did he come to jump in the pond ? 

Hank. How did he come? Purty fast. That’s how. 

Marie. But what made him act in any such a way ? 


MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 


53 


Hank. I dunno. He might a-been tryin^ t’ show off a 
little. 

Marie [suspiciously']. Are you fooling me again. Hank? 

Hank. No, ma’am. Crisscross my heart an’ point t’ 
Heaven, I ain’t. Ef y’ don’t b’lieve what I said, jest go 
look b’hin’ th’ barn. 

Marie. Tell me how it happened, then. 

Hank [laughs again]. Well, y’ see, this yere feller, he 
wuz out in th’ pasture a-sa’nterin’ aroun’ like a blin’ 
goose in a January snowstorm, when I went out to th’ lot 
t’ do my chores. 

Marie. He probably wanted to look around a bit. 

Hank. Well, he did. [Laughs.] 

Marie. Did what? 

Hank. He looked aroun* jest as I turned ole Ride’s ca’f 
out t’ go git water. 

Marie. I knew that you did something. 

Hank [in injured tone]. Me? Why I never done no 
more ’n I do ever ’ night. 

Marie. Then how did such an accident take place? 

Hank. I started t ’ tell y ’ an ’ y ’ had t ’ butt in accusin ’ me 
o’ somethin’ I never done. 

Marie. Go on with your story. Hank. I’m very sorry that 
I interrupted you. 

Hank. Oh, you’re excused. Well, as I wuz sayin’, th’ 
dude looked aroun ’ an ’ there wuz that ca ’f a-comin ’ right 
to ’ards him with ’is head down an ’ a blowin ’ an ’ snortin ’ 
like he allays does when he’s let out, so th ’ dude lets out 
a yell an’ th’’ca’f lets out a beller, an’ down th’ trail 
they both went, nippity-tuck. 

Marie. What did you do, then ? 

Hank. Wliy, I never done nothin’ but hoi’ my sides an’ 
laugh till I hurt. 


54 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Marie. That was mean of you, to turn a fierce beast loose 
upon a defenseless man. 

Hank. Fierce beast yer foot! I wouldn’t call a suckin’ 
ca’f no fierce beast. 

Marie. You knew before you turned him out, though, that 
he chased folks, didn’t you? 

Hank. No, I never knowed no such. He allays makes a 
rush down t ’ th ’ pon ’ fer a drink, soon ’s he gits out. 

Marie. I still believe that you were responsible for what 
happened. 

Hank. Well, b’lieve what y’ please, then. But I couldn’t 
he’p it ef this here dude ain’t got no more sense than t’ 
take out right down th’ trail ahead o’ that ca’f. He’d 
orter jest stepped aside an’ let th’ ca’f go by. 

Marie. But didn’t the animal charge into his victim? 

Hank. No, he never charged into no part uv ’im, at all. 

Marie. The calf knocked him into the water, didn’t he? 

Hank. No. The ca’f never touched ’im. 

Marie. Then how on earth did it all happen ? 

Hank. Why, th’ punkin head jest kep’ a-runnin’ down th’ 
trail, a-lookin’ back an’ squawkin’ ever’ jump, an’ so he 
jest nateherly stumbled right into th’ water all sprauled 
out like a bullfrog. 

Marie. Hank, I am beginning to believe you and place 
confidence in what you say. 

Hank. Oh, you c’n trust me all right. 

Marie. Well, then. I’ll tell you something. Hank, if you 
promise not to repeat it to anyone. 

Hank. I wouldn’t repeat it t’ Saint Peter hisself. 

Marie. I was engaged, to ‘‘that feller,” as you call him, 
but if he doesn’t know any more than to jump into a 
pond simply because he happens to be in the pathway of 
a little thirsty calf, I am liable to lose interest in him. 

Hank. Hot ziggity I 


MARIE MISSES MARRIAGE 


55 


Enter Silas from Eight. 

Silas. Say, Marie, that feller that brought you here has 
just whizzed off down th’ road in ’is car. He wouldn’t 
even speak to me when I asked ’im to come in an’ stay all 
night with us. 

Hank. Mebbe he got insulted some way. 

Marie. I strongly suspect that he was so much ashamed 
of himself that he couldn’t bear to face us. I’m glad he’s 
gone, speaking for number one. 

Exit Marie Left. 

Silas. What in tarnation d ’ye spose that gal meant by th ’ 
feller bein’ ashamed t ’ face all uv us ? 

Hank. Oh, he got mixed up with that four-year-ol’ ca’f o’ 
yourn. 

Silas. Ole Barney? 

Hank [laughs]. Yeah, Ole Bal'ney. But I tole Ma-ree 
that he wuz jest a ca’f. Don’t never tell ’er no better. 

Silas. I don’t quite understan’ what it’s all about, but I 
’spect you’ve been up t’ some more uv yer tricks. Hank. 

Hank. Oh no. Ole Barney done th’ trick. An’ ef things 
keep on turnin’ out in my favor like they have so far, 
I’m gonna buy ‘'that ca’f” a brass ring fer ’is nose an’ 
take ’im right along with me on my honeymoon. 


CURTAIN 


IS A PIG’S TAIL PORK? 


CHARACTERS 

Chairman Alonzo Chinwobble 
Affirmative Negative 

Julius Clymer Hiram Hammerhead 

Gloria Swamsome Eazey Dee Lighted 

Curtain goes up to disclose: Cha^irman Alonzo Chin- 
wobble seated behind table or desk at rear of stage and 
facing audience; Julius Clytmer a7id Gloria Swam¬ 
some seated obliquely at Bight and Hiram Hammer¬ 
head and Eazey Dee Lighted ditto at Left. 

Chairman [rising to face audience]. Bruddahs, an’ also 
dem dat patches deir pants—^we am met here upon a mos’ 
solem’ an’ obstropalous occasion, as yo’ all is not entiahly 
obliterate ob. We am heah, dear fellow chosen ones, to 
cuss, recuss and discuss our subject fo’ dis meetin’, which 
am none other dan nor nothin’ else but: “Revolved dat 
a pig’s tail am po’k”—a mos’ consequential an’ I might 
also add one ob de mo ’ burnin ’ questions ob de day. 

Gloria. Set de question off de fire den, fo’ I allays hates 
to smell hog meat a-sco ’chin ’. 

Chairman. I’ll has to ax you. Miss Gloria Swamsome, 
to fust please allays undress the chair, befo’ yo’ makes 
talk again or says words wid yo mouf. 

Gloria. I sets keerected, Mistah Chairman. 

Chairman. Now, den, as I denounced in de genesis 
ob my remarks, we is goin’ to hab a rebate an’ de speakahs 
already bein’ selected an’ primed ready to go off, all dat 

56 


IS A PIG’S TAIL PORK? 


57 


remains left to be did is to appint de judges. Ise now 
gwine to exercute my omnipotence an’ desecrate fo’ 
judges Mr. [names members of audience] a highly per- 
spected an’ influenza citizen, an’ also likewise Mistah 

. -, another most promisin’ an’ unfulfillin’ man an’ 

furthermo ’ Mistah-, de mos ’ fair-minded and light- 

fingahed man in de country. De speakahs ob de ev’nin’ 
hereby take notice dat yo’ am warned to repair to get 
ready to begince fo’ de ev’nin’ hours am fas’ precedin’ 
into night an ’ it am done past time to promulgate de con- 
sanctions. Once mo’ again I will now denounce de ques¬ 
tion, at isthmus. In fo’mal words it am: ^‘Revolved dat 
a pig’s tail am po’k.” De infirmative ob dis here highly 
immaterial isthmus will be defounded by Mistah Julius 
Clymer an’ Miss Gloria Swamsome. While de neckatiff 
will be deported by Mistah Hiram Hammerhead and 
Miss Eazey Dee Lighted. De infirmative will install deir 
arguments fust, so I am now takin’ a great amount ob 
discretion in extraducin’ to yo’ all Mistah Julius Caesar 
Clymer. [Applause from others.] Mistah Clymer, yo’ 
now has de floor. 

Julius [rising]. Mistah Chairman, hono’ry exponents, 
friends, fellow sweaters an’ othahs, it am with a vast 
amount ob tribulation an ’ indifference dat I advances my- 
se’f befo’ yo’ all dis bright an’ beautiful ev’nin’, plucked 
as it wuz from de shinin’ partnership ob dem gran’ an’ 
magnolius heabenly cano—^heabenly cano— 

Eazey Dee Lighted. Can o’ beans. 

Julius. No, from de gran’ an’ magnolius heabenly cano- 
peas. I comes to yo’ all wid a vast amount ob trepida¬ 
tion, reparation, preparation an’ perspiration fo’ dis 
concussion. Understandin’ fully an’ realizin’ to de ut¬ 
most content de vast exponsibility desplendent upon my 
weak an ’ coefficient shoulders, I has made recourse to dat 




58 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


vast storehouse ob human knowledge to fin* de status quo, 
and de ratus pro, ob de terms set fo’th in our question 
fo* discussion. By dat I means nothin* else but, nor 
besides, dat I been interviewing dat vast volume despiled 
out ob de wisdom an* works ob dat great man, Dan*el 
Webster. Him dat gib to de worl’ dat burnin* piece ob 
ellykence—“E pleurisy jitney bus onion.’* Now, loan 
me yo* organs ob bearin’ fo’ jest a short while dat won’t 
las’ long fo’ I wants to play a tune on ’em dat dey ain’t 
nevah heahd befo’ in all deir horned days. Ise a-gwine 
a-tell yo’ all what is, an’ also likewise refine de meanin’ 
ob de mos’ exportant word in de subjeck ob concussion. 
I makes ref’rence an’ alludes to de word, term, nomen or 
expression po’k. What am po'kf My frien’ Webster 
says dat po ’k am de flesh or meat ob swine used for food. 
Now, de balance ob my exposition am simple an* plain. 
It am so simple dat mos ’ nearly any common skule teechur 
could un’erstan’ what I is about to advance as argument. 
It am dis. Webster said meet, diden’ he? He never said 
ueahly meet, or almos^ meet, did he? No, sah, he never. 
He said meet. Let me compress dat upon yo’ min’s 
again, dat he said meet. So heah, den—I can prove to 
you all dat a pig’s tail allays meets de rest ob de hog. 
Ef de tail meets de rest ob de hog an’ de rest ob de hog 
am po’k, den de tail is boun’ an’ compelled to be po’k too. 
So I axes yo’ all dis: is yo’ evah seen a hog dat had a 
tail dat diden’ meet de rest ob his body? De anser am 
bound to be: *^No.** My hon’ry deponents knows dat 
dey ain’t no sich hog in captivity or kingdom come. No 
sah,^ dey ain t no hog, pig, shote, or other kind o’ swine 
dat’s got a tail dat don’ meets de rest an* remainder ob 
Its body. So, fo’ dat reason once mo’ I deserts dat a pig^s 
tail am houn* to he po^k. [Sits.] 


IS A PIG’S TAIL PORK? 


59 


Chairman. De nex’ speakah am a member ob de neeka- 
tiff. I now takes excruciatin’ pleasure in offerin^ yo^ all 
Mistah Hiram Hammerhead. 

Hiram [rises^. Mistah Chairman, honest deponents, 
ladies and dem what paid deir carfares, at de outset ob 
de beginnin ’ I feels myself obliged to say dat, unlike my 
unworthy disputant, Mr. Clymer, I is not gwine a-tire yo ’ 
patience an’ pest ify yo’ feelin’s wid a long speech beca’se 
I cain’t do dat, but my collar-ad, Miss Eazey, will, so jest 
keep yo ’ seats an ’ don’t git miscouraged, fo ’ whatsomever 
a man sews dat also shall he rip. An’ now to git to de 
pint, Ise come befo’ yo’ all to prove excusively dat a pig’s 
tail ain’t no mo ’ po ’k dan a fairy tale am mutton. As it 
wuz in de beginnin ’, is now an ’ evah shall be, world with¬ 
out end. Amen. Is yo’ grabbed dat idee like a drownin’ 
man grabs at straws? What is it without no end? 
Nothin’, I tells yo’. Dey ain’t nothin’ without no stop- 
pin’ place. Dey may be some things dat seem like dey 
ain’t got no end, lak a woman’s tongue-lashin’, fo’ in¬ 
stance, but ever’thing is got to have a finish: An’ what is 
de end? De end is de place where ever’thing stops, ain’t 
it? Yes, sah. De place where dere am nothin’. Well, 
den, so much fo’ how much. It am agreed an’ un’erstood 
den, dat de end ob anyt’ing am nex’ t’ing to nuthin’. 
Dat’s a fac ’ dat won’t stan ’ no contribution, fo ’ses. W ’y, 
when yo’ is readin’ a book, fo’ instance, an’ yo’ comes to 
de end ob it, yo ’ cain’t read no mo ’ in dat book, can yo ’ ? 
No, yo ’ cain’t, fo ’ dat is all ob it an ’ besides dey ain’t no 
mo’. But now, to git to mah reg’lah miscourse—I’se 
a-gwine a-prove to yo ’all exclusively by Mistah Clymah’s 
own statements dat a pig’s tail ain’t no mo’ po’k dan a 
fairy tale am mutton. Now den, I ain’t so well ac¬ 
quainted wid ole Dan ’el myse ’f as my exponent claims he 
am, but I knows one t’ing, dat yo’ is apt not to paid no 


60 


FUNNY PLAYS FOE HAPPY DAYS 


dissension to while ago an ’ dat am dis: po ’k am de meat 
or flesh ob swine. Did yo’ all git dat ? De flesh ob swine. 
I axes ebber one ob yo ’ now, single or mis ’able, is dey any 
flesh about a pig’s tail ? De ans ’er am mos ’ deplorably— 
I defies my exponents to bring in a pig’s tail 
befo’ dis highly intelligent body ob peepul an’ show dem 
one bit ob flesh about it. It cain’t be did. Evahbody 
dat knows anyt’ing knows dat a pig’s tail am nuthin’ in 
dis worl’ nor de worl’ to come but a bunch ob hair an’ 
hide an’ a wad ob bone an’ gristle. Dat am a fack dat 
will remain indiscrutable until de sun quits settin’ an’ 
hatches off an’ de membahs ob de infirmative hab got as 
thin as a gnat’s bristle tryin’ to lib on po’k chops made 
out ob pig’s tails. I thanks yo’. [Sits.] 

Chairman. De nex’ speakah will be anuddah membali 
ob de infirmative. I now has de ambition ob traducin’ to 
yo’ all. Miss Gloria Swamsome. 

Gloria. Mistah Chai ’man an ’ de rest ob yo ’ niggahs, I feels 
mahsef entiahly inetiquette to de great question befo ’ us, 
one an’ all. Howsomevah, I is gwineter expectorate yo’ 
all to gib me yo’ moron intelligence fo’ a mattah ob a few 
minutes while I ’lucidates ’pon de ’luminatin’ issue befo’ 
de meetin’. Now, fo’kses, I aims to prove dat a pig’s tail 
am po’k by dat good ole reliarble method knowed to 
scholards as ’limination. Now ’limination am de process 
ob castin’ away all dat save which an’ besides dat dat ain’t 
no good, an’ dat ain’t right an’ propah. How does de cook 
keep fum cookin’ aigs dat’d ra’r up on deir hin’ laigs an’ 
knock yo’ fo’ a row ob tom’stones? W’y, he ’liminates 
’em, dat’s how. How does de Holy ’Gordin ’ Angel keep 
de names ob de crap shootahs an’ chicken stealahs fum 
among dem ob de blessed lam’s ? He ’liminates ’em, dat’s 
how. I tells yo’ dat ef anyting ain’t nuthin’ else but one 
certain somethin’, den it’s boun’ an’ compulled to be dat 


IS A PIG’S TAIL PORK? 


61 


somethin’, by all de laws ob grav’ty, chemics an human 
natuah. So den, les’ see ’bout de question. Yes, sab, I 
deserts ag’in—le’s see ’bout de pig’s tail. Am a pig’s 
tail beef? No. It ain’t nary bit beef. Am it mutton? 
Not on yo’ life. Could it by any kin’ o’ perchance be 
classed as veal ? Not a chance in de worl’ to say so. Can 
us call it goat meat ? Not wid any measuah ob acrobacy. 
Would it be venison? Evahbody knows bettah dan dat. 
Am it fish? Not enough dat yo’ c’n tell it. Might it by 
any chance be classifried as chicken ? Dey ain’t no cullud 
pusson gonna make sich a ignomendous mistake as dat. 
In fac’, is dey any class or fo’m ob meat or fiesh dat yo’ 
could even compare a pig’s tail wid besides po’k? Dere 
posolutely am not. Yo’ knows, an’ I knows, dat dere 
ain’t nuthin’ else in dis whole Juniverse dat eben looks 
lak a pig’s tail, ceptin’ de way certain small gals fixes 
deir hair an’ ob co’se yo’ couldn’t make nuthin’ dere by 
way ob comparison. So, den, ef a pig’s tail ain’t beef 
nor veal nor mutton nor venison nor fish nor chicken nor 
any othah kin’ or class ob meat, it mus’ undutifully be 
[pauses for emphasis] heah me now, when I says, it 
mus’undutifully be— po^k. [Sits.] 

Chairman. It now becomes mah fu’thah pleasuah to 
produce to yo ’ all de final an ’ las ’ speakah not only fo ’ de 
neckertiff but de las’ one ob de debate. It am mos’ fit- 
tin’ an’ ordinary dat a woman should hab de las’ wud, 
ain’t it ? Well, den, I now produces to yo’ all Miss Eazey 
Dee Lighted, ob de neckertiff. Miss Eazey Dee, yo’ has 
de consanction ob de chaih to promulgate yo ’ hostilities. 

Eazey. Mistah Chaiahman, hon’able judges, wordy op¬ 
ponents, ladies an ’ night buhds, I feels it to be an unre¬ 
served honah dat am restowed upon me to be permitted as 
it were to be allowed to close dis concussion. Howsom- 
evah, on de contrary notwithstanding, I wishes to deplore 


62 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


my omnipotence at de beginnin’ an’ ax yo’ all to remem- 
bah dat ef I advances any points in mah argument dat it 
will be due to de ovahwhammin’ evidence in favoh ob de 
neckertitf an’ not to any undah-ord-nary accomplice- 
ments ob mine. As a membah ob. de denyin ’ side ob dis 
heah conflagration, I fi’mly an’ fixedly believes dat a pig’s 
tale am not po’k. As one ob de rnilliums ob intelligent 
votahs an’ also, likewise an’ accorjinly, as a private deni¬ 
zen, I feels de same way. An ’ ca ’se fo ’ why ? Mah rea¬ 
sons am ominently plain an’ simple. Let me esplain. To 
divert once mo’ to our ole frien’ Webstah, fo’ de meanin’ 
ob de wuds used in our question, we finds de wud tale 
means a story, or 1-e-g-e-n-d, leg-end. Dat am enutf, it 
seems to me, to demolish all doubts fum anybody’s min’, 
bout de properzition. Yo’ sees dat de wud, lak many 
othahs in ouah lexington, has two meanin’s. Take eithah 
one ob dem, howsomevah, an’ yo’ cain’t git no po’k out 
uv it. To begince wid de fust, meanin’ story. Dere am 
a story in de fust readah about a pig. Dat would be a 
pig’s tale, wouldn’t it? But Ise heah to espostulate to 
yo dat yo could read dat story till yo’ got as gray as a 
rat, an’ yo’ lips nevah would git de least bit greasy wid 
po k. Dat’s a fack, too. Den take de meanin ’ last men¬ 
tioned—leg-end, whereby pig^s tale would be constrowed 
to read: pig^s leg-end. What am dat? Why, dat am 
not no nuthin’ mo’ nor othahwise dan de end ob a hog’s 
leg. An goin ’ mo ’ distance into de case, what am de end 
ob a hog’s leg? Why, de answer to dat am boun’ to 
revolve down to de hog’s hoof. Now den, it only remains 
to be said dat anybody wid a weak min’ an’ a strong diges¬ 
tive system c’n eat slices ob fried hog hoof an’ call it po’k 
ef dey chooses, but I says, I’d jest as soon eat 

tu nip greens an’ toothpicks an’ swear it wuz ’possum. 


IS A PIG’S TAIL PORK? 


6;j 


No sah, I defirms to yo’ one an’ all, a pig’s tale absotively 
an’ posolutely am not pole, 

Gloria [rising], Mistah Chairman, I rises on de p’int ob 
common intelligence. 

Eazey. Well, you’d better set back down, den, ef that’s all 
yo ’ got to go on. 

Chairman. What you tooken inter yo’ haid to say. Miss 
Swamsome ? 

Gloria. I wishes to say fo’ de benefit ob de judges ob dis 
rebate dat my opponent Miss Jjighted made a mistake 
when she looked in de die’shunary an’ got a-holt uv de 
wrong tail. De wud us is usin’ is— 

Chairman. I’ll be dispelled to call yo’ to ordah, Miss 
Swamsome. All arguments is s’posed to be closed. 

IIiRAM. Dat’s right, too, Mistah Chairman. Us objects 
to any furder interference wid de mental meanderin’s 
ob de hon’able judges who is in all probability now neahly 
ready to gib us de incision in ouah favoh. 

Julius. Yo’s got one incision now dat needs to be closed 
up. Dat’s yo’ mouf. 

Chairman. Come to ordah, gem’mans. Come to ordah. 
I reman’s dat yo’ does. As wuz befo’ stated, all argu¬ 
ments is ovah now (;scept bernong de jedges, who will now 

' attire demse’ves to some secnit place an’ prepare deir 
report on de arguments dey’s heahed. 

CURTAIN 


Note. If «o degired the judges’ dcciaiong may be called for and 
read to the audience. 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 


CHAKACTEES 


Head Kicker 
Worn Out Kicker 
Inner Halter Boy 
Keeper op the Harness 
Candidate for Membership 


Next Best Kicker 
Driver Boss 
Outer Halter Boy 
Keeper of the Currycomb 
Stable Boss 


Wipe of Candidate 


Scene. The stage is arranged to represent a shabby lodge room 
by placing an old table, desk, or large box at Rear-center facing 
audience, and two long benches, one extending along each side of stage, 
slightly widening at front. Appropriate effect may be secured by 
hanging a mule skull on the wall directly behind and above the Head 
Kicker’s desk. Additional “emblems” might be dried hoofs, etc., 
on side walls. 


Curtain rises to disclose Head Kicker seated hehind 
desk, others standing or sitting about. 

Head Kicker [raps desk; all sit. Then Head Kicker 
rises]. De Mos ’ Ancient an ’ Hono ’able* Ordah of de Sons 
of de Old Gray Mule am about to open its rambunctions. 
All dat knows deirse’ves to be membahs stay right heali 
in de stall. All othahs please back out befo’ yo’ gits 
kicked out. 

Candidate. Guess heah’s whah I bettah go in reverse. 
[Rises, exit Right.] 

Head Kicker. Now, bruddahs, stan’, while de Stable Boss 
takes up de password. Let ebry membah gib de word dat 
he tinks am mos’ fittin’ an’ propah. Bruddah Stable 
Boss, yo’ kin start wid me. 


64 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 65 


[Stable Boss rises and goes to Head Kicker, then to all 
others in succession. Each gives word in loud whisper.] 

Head Kicker. Le’s git in de collah. 

Next Best Kicker. Git ap, mule. 

Worn Out Kicker. Trabble on. 

Driver Boss. Pick ’em up fastah an’ set ’em down fahthah 
apaht. 

Inner Halter Boy. Go ’long, sah. 

Outer Halter Boy. Don’ swaller dem bits. 

Keeper of the Harness. Hoi’ yo’ haid up an’ keep yo’ 
hoofs down. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Lay yo’ yeahs back an’ kick 
up yo ’ heels. 

[Stable Boss returris to position directly in front of Head 
Kicker. Places base of thumbs to sides of his head 
and wiggles hands back and forth in imitation of mutexs 
ears, then kicks backward with both feet at same time.] 

Stable Boss. Mos’ wuthy an’ Hon’able Head Kickah, I 
fin’s all qualificated. 

Head Kicker. Well dun, Bruddah Stable Boss. Nbw 
what am yo ’ passwud ? 

Stable Boss. Mine am, “Wo, mule, yo’ shoes am kicked 
loose. ’ ’ 

Head Kicker. Le’s now sing ouah lodge hymn. 

[All sing to tune of Old Gray Mare] 

All [sing]. 

The Ole Gray Mule’s gwine-a be what he used to be. 

Be what he used to be, be what he used to be. 

The Old Gray Mule’s gonna be what he used to be, 

Many long years ago. 


66 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Chorus 

Many long* yeahs ago, many long yeahs ago, 

The Old Gray Mule’s gonna be what he used to be, 

Be what he used to be, be what he used to be. 

The Old Gray Mule’s gonna be what he used to be 
Many long yeahs ago. 

[All 

Keeper of the Harness. Bruddah Head Kicker, befo’ 
we goes mo’ distance wid dis meetin’, I wants to remark a 
few sayin’s wid yo ’ kin ’ commission an ’ percent. 

Head Kicker. Go ahead, Bruddah Keepah ob de Haltah. 
We all lubs to heah yo’ fo’ when yo’ mouf opens, yo’ 
brains shet up. 

Keeper op the Harness. Pausin’ to gib thanks fo’ de 
splendiferous complimication jest gib to me, I wants to ob¬ 
serve on what Ise seen. I has ref’rence to de sad want an’ 
cryin’ need ob dis heah omnificent body ob de Mos’ An¬ 
cient an’ Hon’able Ordah ob de Sons ob de Old Gray 
Mule f 0 ’ an excessity dat we cain’t git ’long widout much 
longah. To splanify mahse’f furder and come mo’ neah 
hiakin’ mahse’f cleah, exquisite an’ undahstood, I begs to 
ask dat all de membahs present who indulges in de pas¬ 
time of shootin ’ craps, please reah up on deir hin ’ laigs an ’ 
Stan’ till counted. [Every one stands,] Bruddah Head 
Kicker, yo’ sees de situation ob de consekences. Now, in 
view ob all dese fac’s, I moves dat we has some garboons 
in dis heah lodge. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Amen, Bruddah. I two times 
de motion. 

Head Kicker. A motion am fully made an’ backed up dat 
we hab some garboons in ouah lodge. Any yeahmahks 
to be made by anybody on de subjeck. 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 67 


Next Best Kicker. Bruddah Head Kickah. 

Head Kicker. Bruddah Nex’ Bes’ Kickah. 

Next Best Kicker. I jest wants ter take dis heah opper- 
chunity to express mahse’f to de effect dat Ise in hahty 
sympathy, agreement an^ conjunctivity wid Bruddah 
Keepah ob de Halt ah in dat us sholy do needs some gar- 
boons. Us needs two at least in dis ordah. 

Worn Out Kicker. Bruddah Head Kickah. 

Head Kicker. Bruddah Wore Out Kickah. 

Worn Out Kicker. I guess I has a right to make talk heah 
wid my mouf ef I wants to. I pays my dues when Ise 
got de money aftah hittin ^ ’em natchel long enough at a 
time, an’ I comes to meetin’s as of’en as I c’n slip off fum 
de ole womem. An’ heah’s jest what I wants to say: 
Dis garboon bizness am all a pack o’ foolishment, dat’s 
what. It am nuthin’ no mo’ nor no less dan a big lot ob* 
style dat has been got up heah in de last few yeahs an’ 
I ain’t got no use fo ’ sich doin’s. De ole fashioned ways 
am de bes’ an’ mos’ sensible, ’cordin to my ways o’ seein’. 
De frills an’ fancies ob modem life dat am seizin’ onto de 
hearts an min’s ob de peepul lak a good houn’ seizes onto 
a ’possum am de ruination ob de oncoming generation. 
Yas, sah, bruddahs, I tells all ob yo’ we has gotta git 
back to de ways ob God, ef we ’spectS" anyt’ing fum Him 
in de great heahaftah beyond de present. Us sholy is. 
An’ whoevah heahed ob de Lawd gibbin’ his percent to 
any sich new fangled convention as a garboon ? No sah, 
I ain’ gwine allow mah vote an’ influence to be used to 
constall no sich thing. 

[Inner Halter Boy and Outer Halter Boy rise at 
same time.] 

Both. Bruddah Head Kickah. 


68 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Head Kicker. HoF on a minit dar, Bruddah Inner 
Haltah Boy an’ Bruddah Outah Haltah Boy. One at a 
time, please. I cain’t heah but one at a time. 

Inner Halter Boy. Peahs lak yo’ orter heah bofe ob us. 
Yo’s got two yeahs on yo ’ haid, ain’t yo ’ ? A yeah fo ’ me 
an ’ a yeah fo ’ him ? 

Outer Halter Boy. But I don’ wants him to heah mah 
say dat a-way. What I said would go in on one side an’ 
what yo’ said would go in at the othah, but yo’s would 
’mount to sich a little dat mine’d go right on through. 

Inner Halter Boy. Looka heah, niggah! Does yo ’ mean 
to ’lude to me by yo^f 

Outer Halter Boy. I don ’ hafta ’lude to yo ’. Evahbody 
knows who Ise talkin ’bout widout it. 

Inner Halter Boy [advances]. See heah, black man, 
yo’ jest come yo’se’f outside dis heah lodge room an’ I’ll 
knock yo’ plum fum Amazin’ Grace to a floatin’ oppo’- 
chunity. 

Outer Halter Boy [pulls out razor]. Heah we goes, 
den, ef yo’ wants t’ settle de ahgument dat a-way. Ise 
got de ’cision right heah wid me an ’ it’s easy t ’ see dat yo ’ 
am dun lost yo’ side ob de case. Open de do’, somebody, 
an’ let me make choc’late colohed shredded wheat outa 
dis coon. • 

Keeper op the Harness. Say looka heah, Bruddah Outah 
Haltah Boy, what am yo ’ gwine ter do ? 

Outer Halter Boy. Ise gwine a cut dat black man plum 
in two. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Now, ef yo’ wants t’ do some 
cuttin’, why don’ yo’ cuts dat foolishment out an’ put up 
dat meat cleavah yo’s got dere, so’s we c’n go on wid ouah 
argification an’ make a satisment ob dis case to ouah 
settlef action ? 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 69 


Inner Halter Boy. DaUs de talk now, boys. Git dat 
broad swode away fum dat niggah, befo’ he makes hap¬ 
piness to mah wife by causin’ mah life inshuance to be 
payable. 

Head Kicker. Ordah, bruddah’s, ordah. Dat am Heaben’s 
fust rule an’ ef we’s to measuah dis bunch by it right 
now, deyd be sev’ral present a few inches sho’t. Now I 
axes yo’ all as gen’men an’ frachernal bruddahs, t’ les hab 
a little mo ’ quiet. 

Next Best Kicker. I removes dat we tables so much mis- 
cussion an’ votes on de question befo’ us. 

Worn Out Kicker. I secon’s de commotion. 

Head Kicker. It am moved an’ two timed dat ifs tables 
de miscussion an ’ votes on de question as stated w ’ile ago. 
All in favoh ob de commotion make it knowed by de 
usual sign. 

[All save Worn Out Kicker go ^‘haw hee, haw hee,” in 
imitation of a donkey’s braying.] 

Head Kicker. All exposed to de question make de same 
sign. 

[Worn Out Kicker brays.] 

Head Kicker. Bruddahs, by yo’ vote yo’ has decided to 
hab garboons. Now, how many will yo’ hab an’ how will 
yo ’ git ’em ? 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Mistah Head Kickah. 

Head Kicker. Mistah Keepah ob de Curry com’. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. I makes a commotion dat we 
has two garboons, an ’ dat yo ’ exercises yo ’ obligatory om¬ 
nipotence an ’ ’p ’ints ’em yo ’se ’f. 

Keeper of the Harness. I secon’s dat. 

Head Kicker. All in favoh ob dat motion make it knowed 
by de usual mannah. 


70 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


[All hray.] 

Head Kicker. All right, now; by yo ’ votes once mo ’ yo ’ 
has laid upon my back de task ob selectin’ dese highly 
ambiguous officers. So I now hereby exercises mah in¬ 
discretion an ’ ’p ’ints fo ’ ouah garboons, Bruddah Keepah 
ob de Haltah an’ Bruddah Keepah ob de Currycom’, I 
b’lieves dat dey’ll make good ’n’s, ca’se dey’s got de 
bigges’ moufs an’ c’n holler de loudest. 

[Knock is heard at door at Right. All look toward door, 
hut no one moves. Knock is repeated louder.] 

Driver .Boss [in loud whisper to Stable Boss]. Some¬ 
body’s outside. Go denounce him. 

Stable Boss. I guess I don’ hafta be able to look th’u 
wood to know dat mahse’f. Yo’ go denounce ’im, ef yo’ 
wants ’im denounced. 

[Knock is heard again, louder than before.] 

Driver Boss. Bettah open dat do’ befo’ he t’ars it down. 
Whoevah dat is, sho am a knockah. 

Stable Boss. I’ll say he am. His knuckles mus’ be coated 
wid i’on washahs. Bettah go on an’ denounce dat man. 

Driver Boss. Ef I has to I can. [Crosses to door.] But 
I don’ b’lieves dat am any man. Mus’ be a billy goat. 

[Opens door and gets kicked on shins by Candidate who 
has backed up to door and now enters, kicking back¬ 
ward as he comes.] 

Driver Boss [rubs shin]. Um, golly! I said dat wuz a 
ole he-billy-goat, but it’s wuss’n dat. Ain’t nobody 
would do a fellah lak dat but a aig-suckin’, sheep-stealin’, 
one-eyed son of a stuffed monkey. 

Candidate. What’s dat yo’ speaks wid yo’ mouf concern¬ 
in’ me? 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 71 


Driver Boss. I espressed mahse’f concernin’ yo’ pussonal 
habits, which shows a sad lack ob respeck fo’ dis heah 
omnificent lodge. 

[Driver Boss collars Candidate.] 

Candidate. Hoi’on a minit, dar. Yo’ am ’bout to squeeze 
cidah out uv mah Adam’s apple. ’Sides dat, I nevah 
showed nuthin’ lak wliat yo’ said to nobody in mah life. 

Stable Boss [takes Candidate’s arm]. Now looka heah, 
niggah, is yo’ knows who I is? Well, I’se de mos’ holy, 
sacerd an’ cantankerous Stable Boss ob dis heah chaptah 
ob de Mos’ Ancient an Hon’able Ordah ob de Noble Sons 
ob de Ole Gray Mule, an ’ I wants yo ’ t ’ know dat Ise some 
tail twistah, too. Now, what bizness am yo’ got, cornin’ 
to dis place an’ pawin’ an’ kickin’ lak a zeraffe, till yo’ 
neahly knocks cuah do ’ down ? Ansah me dat ? 

Candidate. Yo’ means, how come I come in heah, whe’ 
all yo ’ Sons ob de Ole Gray Mule am hitched ? 

Stable Boss. Yassah. How come? 

Candidate. Oh, I jest dun dat fo’ a stall. 

Driver Boss. Well, how come yo’ wuz backed up to dat 
do ’ ’stead o ’ bein ’ head fust at it ? 

Next Best Kicker. Dat am a fool question to ask. Any¬ 
body c’n take a look at dat niggah’s feet an’ see dat dey 
am so big he has to back up to a do ’ to knock on it. 

Worn Out Kicker. I s’pose, Bruddah Head Kicker, dat 
de po’ misguided, undirected an’ othahwise deluded man 
am desi’ous an’ cravin’ fo’ membahship in ouah ordah. 
He’s seekin’ admittance. 

Candidate. Seekin’ Ab who? 

Next Best Kicker. Ad-mittance. 

Candidate. No sah. I ain’ seek Ab nobody. I jest wants 
ter jine dis lodge an’ git pertection fum mah wife. Dat 
woman sholy am mean to me. 


72 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Keeper of the Currycomb. Po’ man. 

Candidate. Yassah, she am de mos’ crueles’ thing I evah 
seen. W’y, dat woman am so bad dat she hab been 
knowed to strike matches, whip cream, an’ one time she 
jes’ simply heat some aigs to a foam. 

Keeper of the Harness. Well, dat ain’ hu’t yo’ none, is 
it? 

Candidate. Jes’ only dis mawnin’ she hit me on de nose 
wid a white silk glove she’s got. 

Head Kicker. Git out, niggah. A li’l’ ole silk glove orten 
to hu’t nobody. 

Candidate. Yassah, but she had huh fist in dat one. 

Head Kicker. Heah now, heah now, dat am enough fool- 
ishment outa yo’. Le’s git down to bizness, bruddahs. 
Shall us take this man into ouah sassiety ? 

Outer Halter Boy. Peahs t’ me lak he’s already in. 

Inner Halter Boy. What fo’ is yo’ all time wanta show 
yo’ ignorance? He means, is us gwine ter make a Son 
ob de Ole Gray Mule outa dis can-idate. 

OuTAH Halter Boy. Well, roun’ de head an’ yeahs, looks 
lak de Lawd am dun dat. 

Keeper of the Harness. I moves dat we ascepts him as a 
membah ob ouah lodge an’ gibs him all de pertection us 
can fum his wife. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Well, I pussonally knows dal 
female battleship o’ his’n an’ ef us pertects him, us’ll 
hafta f 0 m a rifle squad. But I secon’s de motion. 

Head Kicker. How many is in favoh ob dat motion? 

[All hr ay] 

Head Kicker. Bruddah Stable Boss an’ Bruddah Drivah 
Boss, us is about to ballast on de prospective can’date. 
Will yo all please reprove him fum de august presence 
while us does so ? 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 73 


[Biniddalis Stable Boss and Driver Boss wiggle hands at 
side of heads, kick backward with both feet at once and 
conduct Candidate from the room.] 

Candidate [comes to sudden halt at door and faces Head 
Kicker] . Now looka heah, peepul. Ise a free bo ’n Ame 
ican sen sen an’ Ise jest as black as anybody. Yo’all 
ain’t got no right to insult me lak dis. 

Inner Halter Boy. Dat’s all right, big boy. Dey ain’t 
nobody gwine ter hahm yo’. Us jest craves de pleasuah 
ob yo’ absence away fum us w’ile us ballasts on yo’ 
reciprocation. 

Candidate. Aw right, den. Dat am a boss ob a dif’rent 
colah, an’ ef yo’ all don’ wants me in yo’ lodge, yo’ won’t 
kick me roun’ heah no mo’ presently. 

[Exeunt Driver Boss, Stable Boss and Candidate] 

Head Kicker. Bruddahs, we am now about to entah upon 
de mos’ solemn column an’ sacred process ob votin’ on a 
can’idate. Think well ob how yo’ votes, not only fo’ de 
sake ob ouah ordah, but also fo’ sake ob dat po’ man’s 
back. Also remembah dat de votin’ sign on can’idates 
am a dif’rent thing fum othah mattahs. Am yo’ all 
ready ? 

Worn Out Kicker. Reddy’s ca’f. 

Head Kicker. Now, all dat am in favoh ob asceptin’ de 
can’idate will please come to de stan’in’ persition an paw 
three times, as is de custom. 

Next Best Kicker, Who’s gwine ter cuss some? 

Head Kicker. Don’ interrupture dis meetin’ wid yo’ ig¬ 
norant bumbulations no mo’. Go ahead, bruddahs, an’ 
vote. 

[All stand and paw three times.] 


74 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Head Kicker. By yo’ vote yo’ hab decided t’ ascept de 
candidate an’ offah him de pertection ob de ordah. Brud- 
dah Nex’ Bes’ Kickah, go an’ so info’m dem on de out¬ 
side an’ tell dem t’ come on in. 

[Exit Next Best Kicker.] 

Next Best Kicker [in loud voice outside]. Yo’ all is 
desiahed to be no longah absent away fum de ’sembly 
hall, but to make yo’ appea’ance fo’thwith immediately. 

[Enter Driver Boss, Stable Boss, Candidate, and Next 
Best Kicker.] 

Candidate. How did de vote go? 

Outer Halter Boy. Up an’ down three times. 

Driver Boss. Yo’ wuz admitted to membahship an’ we is 
now ready to place upon yo ’ de ’nitiation. 

Candidate. No, sah. Yo’ ain’t gwine do no sich a come- 
off. Ain’t gonna hab nobody’s ’nitials on me. Ef I hab 
got to be branded to jine dis lodge, I renigs right now, 
an’ don’ wanta be no Sou Ob de Ole Gray Mule. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Us ain’t gonna brand yo’, 
niggah. Us hab jest got some ceremony to gib yo’. 

Candidate. Well, den, ef yo’s gwineter gib me some ob 
Sarah’s money, I ’ll take dat. 

Stable Boss. As de mos’ wo’thy an disinfected Stable 
Boss ob dis heah Chaptah ob De Mos’ Ancient an’ Hon’- 
able Ordah ob de Son’s ob de Ole Gray Mule, I now pre- 
fo ms my ficial duty as de fust pa’t ob de ceremony. 
[Blindfolds Candidate with huge bandana.] 

Candidate. Um-m-m, yo’ ban’s sholy does smells fishy, 
whedder yo ’ duty do or not. 

Driver Boss. An ’ as f o ’ gibbin ’ yo ’ some o ’ Sarah ’s money, 
us’ll gib yo’ all ob eberting we got. 

Worn Out Kicker. I say we will. 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 75 


Keeper of the Harness. An’ I, as de mos’ wo’thy an* in¬ 
spected Keepah ob de Ha’ness, does mah pa’t. {Places 
halter around neck of Candidate.] 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Now I, as de mos’ wo’thy an’ 
lugubrious Keepah ob de Curry com’, does mah pa’t, too. 
[Ruhs currycomb vigorously up and down the spine of 
Candidate.] 

Candidate [jumps]. Hey! Golly, Moses! Am yo’ 
tryin’ t’ unravel mah backbones? Dat felt lak a section 
han’ bein’ drug ovah rocky new groun’. 

Outer Halter Boy. Dat wuz jest ter loosen up yer dis¬ 
position. 

Candidate. Man, it dun loosened up mah disposition an’ 
ha’f mah appetite. 

Inner Halter Boy. Yo’ am now about to go on a long 
jou’ney. 

Candidate. Looka heah, I ain’t gonna git on no Jenny. I 
thought dis wuz de Ordah ob de Mule. 

Inner Halter Boy. Nobody said nuthin’ ’bout no Jenny. 
Yo’ is goin’ on a journey. Dat means yo’ is gonna take 
a trip. 

Candidate. Man alive, I’ll hafta ax mah wife ’bout dat. 

Next Best Kicker. Nevah min’ yo’ wife. 

Candidate. I don’ want to but I has to, anyhow. Sho 
nuff, bruddahs, I’d jest love t’ go on dat trip wid yo’ all, 
but mah wife’d jest natcherally make mashed pertaters 
outa me ef I did. 

Worn Out Kicker. Mest disremembah dat yo’ wife am in 
existence. Us’ll take de ’sponsibility fo’ yo’ safety. 

Candidate. Bettah take sumpin’ strongah dan dat, ef yo’ 
spects t’ do anyt’ing wid dat woman. 

Head Kicker. Bring in de genoowine Ole Gray Mule. 


76 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


[Inner Halter Boy and Outer Halter Boy go out and 
return carrying a rail or pole. They snort and stamp 
in imitation of a mule.] 

Head Kicker. Prepare yose’f to mount yo’ steed. 
Candidate. Wheah is no steed? 

Driver Boy. Whoa, whoa, I say. Heah he am. [Leads 
Candidate up to rail.] Whoa dere, now, mule. Let dis 
man on. He am weary an’ faint, an’ he wants to ride. 
Candidate. Ef I knowed mah wife wuz anywhe’s close, 
I’d be faintah dan what I is now. I tell yo ’, bruddahs, I 
guess I bettah not go. 

Stable Boss. Git on dat mule. Yo’ wife ain’t gwine ter 
hu’t nobody. 

Candidate. Dat’s jest a dream yo’ had outa yo’ big toe. 
When dat woman gits started, she’s not only hostile— 
she’s cannabalistic. 

Next Best Kicker. Am yo’ gonna git on or is us gonna 
hafta put yo ’ on ? 

[Stable Boss and Driver Boss seize Candidate and 
throw him astride pole.] 

Worn Out Kicker. Yo’ am mounted now. Hoi’ tight to 
what yo’ got an’ git some mo’, ef yo’ can. 

[Inner Halter Boy and Outer Halter Boy jounce pole 
up and down with Candidate. Others make great 
fuss.] 

Inner Halter Boy. Whoa, mule! Is yo’ los’ yo’ distem- 
pah completely ? 

Outer Halter Boy. Set tight, big boy, an’ don’t git 
oxcited. 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Hook ’im, cow han’. Yo’ 
wuz bo ’n to be a bronc-bustah. 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 77 


[Candidate is finally thrown off pole onto floor. He falls 
on his hands a7id knees or gets to his hands and knees, 
feet toward audience. Before starting he was secretly 
equipped with a tin bucket lid in the seat of his 
trousers.] 

Head Kicker. Look out, man, dat mule am cornin’ back. 
[Kicks Candidate, making tin lid ring.] 

Candidate falls forward 07i his face. When he rises to 
original position, Next Best Kicker kicks him. This 
is repeated until all have kicked him. 

Next Best Kicker. Somebody ketch dat mule. [Kicks 
Candidate.] 

Worn Out Kicker. Don’t let de man git hu’t. [Kicks 
Candidate.] 

Driver Boss. Come back heah, mule. [Kicks CandidxVte.] 
Stable Boss. Hab mah influences obah yo’. [Kicks 
Candidate.] 

Inner Halter Boy. Ise s’prised at dat mule. [Kicks 
Candidate.] 

Outer Halter Boy. Ain’t dat a shame? [Kicks Candi¬ 
date.] 

Keeper of the Harness. Behave yo’se’f, mule. [Kicks 
Candidate.] 

Keeper of the Currycomb. Yo’ mannahs am a sight, 
mule. [Kicks Candidate.] 

[Candidate springs to his feet and tears blindfold from 
his eyes.] 

Candidate. Hey! Youse guys, looka heah! Ise gonna 
hab eber one ob yo’ all ’rested fo’ salt an’ buttah an’ 
attemp’ to smear. 

Inner Halter Boy. Yo’s all right, now. Us hab got con¬ 
tra! ob ouah mule ag’in. 


78 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Candidate. Well, yo^ all had sho bettah keep control uv 
hm, too. I’ll be Swannee Ribbah, ef dat mule cain’t 
kick almost as ha’d as mah wife. 

Head Kicker. Well, dat pa’t ob de ceremony am ovah. 
All dat remains t’ be did now is t’ lead yo’ up to de 
trough an’ let yo’ eat de sacerd food ob de Ole Gray 
Mule. Den yo’ becomes a full-fledged membah. 

Candidate. Say, dat food sholy mus’ hab dynamite in it, 
ain’t it? 

[Loud knock is heard at Right. All look toward door, hut 
no one moves.] 

Next Best Keeper. Somebody am at de do’. 

Candidate. Jerusalem artichokes! No! Dat ain’t some¬ 
body, dat’s mah wife. 

Worn Out Kicker. Open de do’, befo’ she tear it down. 

Head Kicker. Evahbody stay in deir place an’ remain 
quiet a while. 

Candidate. Not me. Ef Ise t’ stay in heah, mah place 
would be in de graveyard an’ I’d be quiet a mighty long 
time. [Exit at opposite door from knock.] 

[Enter Wife of Candidate, just as her husband disap- 
pears.] 

Wife. Ise lookin’ fo’ mah man. Is none ob yo’ all seed 
’im? I wants him ter home, whe’ evah one ob yo’ all 
orter be. 

Head Kicker. Dis heah am a secret sassiety, lady, dat yo’ 
has included on. It am strickly an’ posilutely agin de 
rules fo a lady to entah dese sacerd presunks, so I will 
now hafta ax yo’ to vacate immejiately. 

Wife. Say looka heah, don’ yo’ persume t’ gib me none o’ 
yo sass. Ise walked right ovah lotsa mo’ impo’tant 
peepul dan yo’ is, huntin’ somebody to cuah mah lone- 
someness. 


THE SONS OF THE OLD GRAY MULE 79 


Head Kicker [severely], Dis heah am a man’s lodge. Will 
yo’ please retiah? 

Wipe. Say, man! Wlio at is yo’ addressin’ dem rema’ks? 
Ef it’s me yo’ is referrin’ to, well, yo’ c’n jest depen’ on 
it dat I’ll git out when I gits good an’ ready an’ not 
befo’ eithah. 

Head Kicker. It seems lak dat de peace an’ dignity ob 
ouah magnolius ordah hab bofe been desecrated to de 
p ’int dat somethin ’ orter be dun, an ’ I, fo ’ one, proposes 
dat somethin’ do be done. 

Next Best Kicker. Le’s not be rash, now bruddahs. Gib 
de woman a chance. 

Wife. Yo’ am de one dat am takin* de chance yo’se’f, yo’ 
dish-faced sa’dine, yo’. 

Next Best Kicker. Lady, us has tried to esplain to yo ’ in a 
reas’nable mannah dat yo’ wuz not wanted heah. In 
fack, nuthin ’ cain’t be made outa what yo ’ has done but 
tresspassin ’. 

Wife. Who said dat, anyhow? Who wuz it gonna make 
a pass at me? I’ll show yo’ saddle-cullud coons who t’ 
make passes at. I’ll do wuss’n Samson dun de Phillis- 
tines. 

[She starts toward Head Kicker, who retreats. She 
snatches mule’s skull from ivall and chases everyone 
from room. Plenty of comic business can he intro¬ 
duced here, such as the members of the lodge falling 
over each other and over benches, getting their sus¬ 
penders {purposely) fastened together and trying40 
run in opposite directions, pretending to be glued to 
the floor, etc., etc. During all of the melee the Wife 
swings right and left with the mule’s head. At the 
height of the confusion and excitement the curtain 
should fall.] 


80 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Note: The “glued to the spot’’ trick can be accomplished by hav¬ 
ing one of the players nail or tack a small strip of sheet metal 
on the sole of each shoe, also a pair of hooks or tongues to fit 
same to the floor. Shortly before the riot begins the character 
so equipped manages to engage the hooks in the cleats on his shoes 
without attracting attention; then he can seemingly make stren¬ 
uous efforts to lift his feet without result, or even lean far over 
without falling. 



TEASING THE TEACHER 


CHARACTEES 

Morris, Chester, Albert, The Professor 
Scene: A Schoolroom. 


Discovered: Morris, Chester, and Albert. 


Morris. Le’s put a pin on ^is chair. 

Chester. All right, le’s do. You gotta pin? 

Albert. No, we’d better not do that. 

Morris. Why not, sissy? 

Chester. Are you sheered? 

Albert. I’m not sheered of either one of you! But I am 
sheered to do that. 

Chester. Well, why? 

Albert. ’Cause th’ P’fessor hnows we always get here 
first, so he’d hnow it wuz us that done it; an’ he’d thrash 
the sap out uf all three of us. 

Chester. That is right. 

Morris. Hadn’t thought of that. 

Chester. Well, le’s play some hind of a stunt on him 
this morning. 

Morris. What’ll we pull? 

Ai.bert. I hnow— 


What? 


Morris. | 

Chester, j 
Albert. Le’s git off a gag on hm. 

Chester. A’right, le ’s do. 

Morris. What gag would he bite at, though? 
Albert. Well, you hnow he lihes rabbits. 
Chester. He sure does. 


81 


82 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Albert. Well, tell him we know a good way to catch one. 
Morris. Aw, everybody, knows that. 

Chester. Sure, by the tail. 

Albert. No, that’s not right either. 

I\1^0RRIS 1 

Chester \ [together]. Well, how then? 

Albert. Why, hide behind the garden and make a noise 
like a turnip. 

Morris. That’s a good one. 

Chester. You bet it is. 

Albert. Yonder comes the P’fessor now. 

Morris. You spring it on ’im, Albert. 

Chester. We’ll help you feed ’im up to it. 

Albert. A’right. 


Enter Professor. 

Professor. Good morning, boys. 

Boys. Good mornin’, P’fessor. 

Professor. A beautiful morning, boys. 

Morris [confused]. Yes, sir, it are—I mean is. 

Chester [nudging Albert]. I never seen—I mean saw 
a more beautiful er one. 

Albert. Ought to be fine for catchin’ rabbits, sir. 
Professor. Rabbits ? Oh yes, I suppose so. But I never 
have much success in snaring them. 

Morris and Chester nudge Albert. 

Albert. Would you really like to have a rabbit, sir? 
Professor. Indeed I would. 

Morris. We catch one nearly ever’ da 3 L 
Chester. I caught two yesterday. 

Professor. But they don’t seem to fancy my traps, so I 
rarely catch one. 


TEASING THE TEACHER 


83 


Albert. Oh, we don’t use traps, P’lessor. 

Professor. Why how do you catch them, then ? 

Albert. Hide behind the garden and make a noise like 
a turnip. 

Professor [looks at hoys steadily without cracking a 
smile]. Oh, but I could tell you boys a better one than 
that. 

Boys. How ? 

Professor. Squat down in a cabbage patch and look 
natural. 


CURTAIN 


JOE GETS A JOB 

(Lithuanian Dialect Monologue) 

Sure, Mike, buddy. My name he’s Joe: You can spell 
him that, Joe. Sure, I'm know you can. That’s a’ right, 
then. My ledy, she’s sometime call me Joseph. That’s 
a’right, too. I no keer por that, buddy, eef she no call me 
that too much close together wit’ another sometime joosta 
same like. That’s no goodt. I no like. Gosh Ann! She 
no call me that only sometime she been leetle bit madt 
to me. That s no goodt. Too much madt to me 1 no like. 

Joosta you call me Joe, buddy. That’s better. Eef 
you justa call me Joe, then I know you no madt to me. 
A right, that’s good. I like. Eef you say me Joseph— 
look oudt! mebbe you been madt to me too. No goodt 
no goodt. I no like. ’ 

I nefer bother by nobody before he do me something. 
Eef he do me something I no like, I’m say first, ‘‘No no* 
buddy! Don’ do that. That’s no goodt like frien’’ 
buddy.” Eef he say, “A’right Joe, I’m no do that some 
more,” I no keer. Still goodt frien’s we keepit. A’rio-ht 
that’s goodt. I like. 

Mebbe sometime, though, eef he’s badt man, he say me, 
‘‘You Joe, shut up. I’m do this myself,’’ then I’m make 
me madt. I’m say, “A’right you, you no my boss tell 
me shut up. I’m no shut up. You no goodt. Better 
keepit my way oudt.” Eef he then keepit my way oudt, 
a’right, I no bother; but I no like. 

Eef he no keepit my way oudt an’ cornin’ before me 
sometime again make smart—Look oudt! Look oudt! I’m 

84 


JOE GETS A JOB 


85 


whole lots madt. Gosh Ann! I’m what you call ’im— 
crazy. I ’in hurt. I ketch ’im. Mebbe, I clunno, kill ’im. 

I no like. 

No, no, buddy, you no skeer me now. I no hurt you. 

I no kill. Joosta tollin’ you, dis other fellows how I do 
him eef I madt. I no madt to you, buddy. Good frien’, 
you. I like. Long time I live here this place, nefer hurt 
nobody when he’s my frien’—good man like you. Joosta 
badt man I no like. You no badt man. I know. I can’t 
much explain, buddy, but I’m see you joosta first time this 
to-da^^. Quick, like that, I’m like you. I’m see, I’m look, 
I’m like. Joosta same. I’m look to your face, I’m say. 
me, “Goodt man, dis fellow’s. I like. Sure Mike, buddy, 

I no lie to you. I’m like, all th’ time this kinda man. 

You what ? You wantit fellows like me to work in coal 
mine? Sure, Mike, buddy, I been—^what you say? under- 
standin’ that. Sure, Mike bu— What you say? No 
callin’ me, you buddy? Callin’ Meester Kirk? Sure, 
Mike, Meester Kirk. I’m lotsa times workit in coal mines. 

I no skeer por coal mines under ground. Sure, Mike, I’m 
like goodt job, make much moneys. I’m work hard, too 
Meester Kirk, loadit lotsa coal, me. Sure, Mike, bu— 
I mean, what you say? Meester Kirk, I’m got wan tools. 

I bring when I cornin’ this coal mine. To-morrow you 
say cornin’ dis place, start workin’ dis coal mine, loadin’ 
coal? Sure, Mike, you betcha, Meester Kirk, I no bringin’ 
no open lights dis coal mine. I know him, this safety 
lamp. I see. I use before. A’right. Labonix, Meester 
Kirk, good-by. You goodt man. I like. 


NERO AND NED 


CHAKACTERS 

Nero and Ned, gentlemen of color and clioler. , 
As curtain rises Nero saunters onto stage. 

Nero. Good evenin’, fo’kses. How’s yo’ conduc’? Is 
yo’ all seed (names director of program) ? Yeah, I sees 
’m now. How yo’ percolatin’, Mistah -? 

Director. Well enough, Nero. 

Nero. Dat’s good, Mistah -. Ise mighty awfull 

glad o ’ dat. But what does yo ’ wants me t ’ do up heah, 
now? 

Director. Just keep your patience, Nero. Ned will be 
here, too, pretty soon, and you bo 3 ^s can entertain the 
audience. 

Nero. Now Mistah - , yo’ knows I ain’t no doctah. 

I ain’t got no patients. 

Director. Just wait for Ned, then, and entertain these 
people a little while. 

Ned is heard offstage in an attempted yodel, very muffled 
at first, as if far away, then becoming more distinct. 

Nero. Land o ’ Goshen! Is somebody done went an ’ tied 
a mule in dis house ? 

Enter Ned 

Ned. What’s dat yo ’ said ’bout a mule ? 

Nero. Wuz dat yo’ unkep’ voice makin’ all dat racket? 

Ned. What racket ? 

Nero. Dat gosh awfull noise dat jes’ now penestrated de 
stillness. 


86 





NERO AND NED 


87 


Ned. Is yo’ ’ludin’ t’ mah yod’lin’? 

Nero. Is dat what ijo’ calls it? Man, it sounded mo’ 
lak a big ole papa mule in pain an’ distress dan anything 
I knows of. 

Ned [offended]. Is yo’ means t’ git pussonaU 

Nero. No, hones’ Ned, I nevah would a-thouglit it wuz 
no pusson. I thought sho it wuz some animule. 

Ned. Niggah, yo’ insinuations am obliterate an’ b’sides 
dat dey am dis’gree’ble t’ mah ap’tite. Does yo’ un’er- 
stan’ dat, or is I gonna hafta emph’size it a size or two 
biggah ? 

Nero. Yo’ bettah behave yo’se’f, Ned. Us is sposed t’ 
entertain dis audience an’ yo’ sta’ts t’ cuttin’ yo’capahs 
de fust thing. 

Ned. Us is sposed t’ enter train? What train? I don’t 
see no train. 

Nero. We’s not gonna enter no train, niggah. What’s 
de mattah wid yo’ un’erstan’in’ debility? 

Ned. Dat’s what yo ’ said, wuzn’t it ? Said us had t ’ enter 
a train. 

Nero. No, I said dat us had t’ entertain dis intelligent 
lookin’ audience— 

Ned. Yo’ sholy ain’t looken’ at de ones I see. 

Nero. Now, when I sez entertain, I means dat us has got 
t’ do a sorta di’log fo’ ’em. 

Ned. Who ? Me ? I ain’t gonna die on no log fo ’ nobody. 

Nero. Yo’ still fails t’ comprehen’. 

Ned. I don’t care nothin’ ’bout countin’ no hens, I said 
dat I wuzn’t gonna die on no log. 

Nero. Well, den s’pose I puts it in a dif’runt way. Us 
is got t’ ’muse dese peepul wid some kinda conversation. 

Ned. Conversation ? 

Nero. Yeah, conversation. Talk. 


88 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Ned. Oh well, den dat’s a boss ob a dif’runt colah. Talk 
am cheap; but what’s us gonna talk about? 

Nero. Oh, mos’ any ole thing, I guess. What’s eatin’ 
on yo’ min’ t’night? 

Ned. Not a thing. Dey wuz a idee sta’ted eatin’ on mah 
min’ one time, though. 

Nero. Well, what happened to it? 

Ned. Why man, it jest natcherally died of starvation. 

Nero. Now, is yo’ shuah dat it wuzn’t only jest pa’tial 
sta ’vation ? 

Ned. Well, now, yo’ am de mos’ educated an’ indelicate 
lookin’ one on de stage up heah, yo’ orta know. 

Nero. Let that pass then. Hab yo’ s’lected any subjec’ 
fo’ us t’ talk ’bout yit? 

Ned. No, I ain’t s’lected nothin’ yit. I dunno what Ise 
s’posed t’ s’lect. 

Nero. Well, now, dere am sebral ole stan’ard subjec ’s dat 
culled comedians am sposed t’ use. 

Ned. Wheah’s any cullad cow-meetin’s ? 

Nero. Wait till I gits through, will yo’? Now, as I said, 
dere am certain subjec’s dat cullad entatainahs gen’- 
rally rely on— 

Ned. What’s de use t’ re lie? If dey lies wunst, ain’t 
dat enough? 

Nero. Lissen t’ what I says. Dese subjec’s am such as 
‘‘Crap Shootin’”, “Possums,” “Sweet Tatahs,” “Tu- 
nip Greens” an’ so fo’th. Now take yo’ pick. 

Ned. Man, I don’t want no pick fo’ such as dat. 

Nero. Well, what does yo’ want? 

Ned. I’d ruthah hab a knife an’ fo’k. 

Nero. Yeah, but I means t’ choose one ob dem. 

Ned. I chews all mah vittles. 

Nero. I means take one ob dem subjec’s an’ le’s talk 
’bout it. 


NERO AND NED 


89 


Ned. Oh, yo’ means jes take one ob dem an’ talk ’bout 
it. I don’t gits t’ eat none ob ’em! 

Nero. Ob co ’se not. Dis am neithah de time nor de place 
t’ eat. 

Ned. Niggah, dere’s wheah yo’ education am a failuah. 
I kin eat twenty-fo’ houahs outa de day an’ any place 
dat yo’ c’d think ob, in any kinda shape dat c’d be 
mentioned ’cept standin’ on mah head wid mah mouf 
shet, an’ somebody holdin’ mah nose. 

Nero. Man, am yo ’ gonna ramble on lak dis all night ? 

Ned. I’d be willin’ t’ ramble all night an’ all day too, 
ef I knowed I’d git all de possum an’ sweet tatahs an’ 
tu’nip greens I c’d eat. 

Nero. I c’n see dat dey am no longah any use t’ depen’ 
on yo’t’ s’lect a subjec’ an’ talk ’bout it wid any sense. 

Ned. I ain’t claimin’ t’ hab no big surplus ’mount ob 
sense, so ef yo’ am so sma’t an’ so dead bent on habin’ 
a subjec’ s’lected, mebbe yo’ bettah s’lect it yo’se’f. 

Nero. All right, den, s’posin’ dat I s’lects “Possums” 
fo’ a subjec’, does yo’ reckin’ yo’ c’n converse on “Pos¬ 
sums ’ ’ ? 

Ned. I dunno ’bout dat, but I sholy kin make a meal 
on a good fat possum an’ a little bit o’ co’n dodgah. 

Nero. Well, can’t you talk about “Possums”? 

Ned. I guess I could, but I don’t lak to. 

Nero. Why not? 

Ned. ’Cause evah time I sta’ts talkin’ ’bout possum, it 
makes mah mouf watah till Ise skeered Ise gonna drown. 

Nero. All dat watah prob’ly comes olfa yo’ brain. 

Ned. Ef yo’s gonna hafta git so sourcastic, le’s go ahead 
an’ talk ’bout possums. 

Nero. All right den, t’ sta’t de mattah olf, what does 
yo’ know ’bout ’em? 


90 


FUNNY PLAYS FOE HAPPY DAYS 


’bout ’em? I knows all about possums from de tip o’ 
deir nose t’ de tip o’ deir tail. What does yo’ know 
’bout ’em? 

Nero. Well, does yo’ know dat a possum am a omnivorous 
quadruped wid an abnormal elongation ob its rear ex¬ 
ternal appendage ? 

Ned. I nevah seen none o ’ that breed, I guess. 

Nero. Oh yes, yo’ has. Dat means no mo’ nor less dan 
dat de possum am a four-footed animal dat eats any¬ 
thing an’ hab got an uncommon long tail. 

Ned. Good goshness Agnes, education am a fine thing, but 
I bet yo’ one thing ’bout it. 

Nero. Yeah, what am dat? 

Ned. Wid all dem big wuds, possum don’ taste no bettah 
t’ yo’ dan it does t’ me. 

Nero. Mebbe so; but still yo’ has t’ admit dat it am a 
fine thing t’ know dat am really what a def’nition ob 
a possum’d be. 

Ned. Dat may be so too; but s’posin’ a feller seen one 
in a tree, ef he had t’ think ovah all dat mess befo’ he 
knowed what it wuz, de possum’d git in a hole an’ he 
couldn’t git ’im. 

Nero. Well, in dat event it would become imperative to 
ascend de tree an’ extricate ’im. 

Ned. Yeah, but who’d want t’ eat a ole extricated possum ? 

Nero. Yo’ big simp, by yo’ ignorance yo’ hab run de 
possum subjec’ t’ a hole in de groun’. 

Ned. I thought dat de possum wuz s ’posed t ’ be up a tree. 


CURTAIN * 


OLD SCHOOLMATES 


CHARACTERS 

Charley, who married and settled down in the old dis¬ 
trict. 

Sam, who wandered away and never married. 

Both are stooped and gray and both carry canes. When 
curtain rises Charley is discovered sitting on a goods 
box in ruminative manner. 

Enter Sam from Bight. 

Sam. Why, hello, Charley White! 

Charley [springing to feet]. Sam Ball, as sure as I’m 
alive! How in the world are you? 

They shake hands warmly. 

Sam. Finer’n frog hair. How’s yerself, ole hoss? 
Charley. ’Bout right, I reckon, ole walrus. 

Sam. You’re shore lookin’ good. 

Charley. Yeah. I feel good, too. You look all right 
yerself. Not a day older’n you looked th’ last time I 
saw you. 

Sam. You ain’t changed none, either, as I c’n see. I’d 
a-knowed you in a field full of cabbage. 

Charley. Yeah? Well, I’d be willin’ t’ gamble I’d 
a-knowed that mug o’ yourn in a lot full of donkeys. 

Both laugh. 

Sam. Well, I c’n say one thing—you’re stiU th’ same 
ole Charley that a race hoss couldn’t git ahead of. 


91 


92 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Charley. I’m shore glad you ’re back. Gonna stay a while 
this time ? 

Sam. Yeah, think I’ll spend th’ rest of my days here in 
th’ ole settlement, now. 

Charley. Well, that’s good. You been gone a long time. 
How long has it been since th’ las’ time you wuz here? 

Sam. Quite a spell, I reckon. I don’t exactly remember. 

Charley. I c’n count it up. Le’s set down, here, an’ 
rest a spell, anyhow. 

Sam. All right. I’m a little bit tired an’ wore out. 

Both sit. 

Charley. Oh, I ain’t much tired. I c’n allays think 
better, though, settin’, than I can standin’. 

Sam. Well, I been on my feet quite a bit t’day, an’ y’ 
know that, ain’t very good on fallen arches. 

Charley. No, nor rheumyfism. I got my feet wet four 
or five years ago, an’ I ain’t never got over it yit. 

Sam. Too bad. Teh, tch. [Makes clucking soiiudhetween 
teeth.] 

Charley. I see you hafta have a stick, too. 

Sam. Well, I guess I don’t reelly hafta have it; but it’s 
a big help. Y’ see, I fell off’n a haystack three years 
ago, come this summer, an’ busted up my feet purty bad. 

Charley. Well, I declare! Y’ ever try these here arch 
supports ? 

Sam. Hafta have ’em all th’ time. 

Charley. I’ve beared they’s purty good. 

Sam. They he’p some. Say, do you still live in th’ same 
place ? 

Charley. Yeah, same ole place. Been livin’ right there 
goin’ on twenty-six years. An’ that makes me think, 
have you ever got married yit ? 

Sam [grins]. Nope. Still sane an’ single. 


OLD SCHOOLMATES 


93 


Charley. I started t’ count while ago, how long it had 
been since you left for th’ west. 

Sam. We did start that an’ then drop it, didn’t we? 

Charley. Now le’s see. You left th’ fall my barn burnt 
down, right after I wuz married. 

Sam. I c’n remember that burnin’ barn as well as if it 
wmz yisterday. 

Charley. ’Twuz purty excitin’, I reckon. Lots o’ peo¬ 
ple come runnin’ in, but nobody wuzn’t able t’ save 
nothin’ but th’ bosses an’ a few plow tools. 

Sam. Didn’t ever’body eat roasted peanuts th’ nex’ day 
after things cooled otf a bit? 

Charley. Yeah, but they all had t’ hold their noses on 
account of a sack full of feathers that got burnt up an’ 
still kep’ a-smolderin’ an’ smokin’. 

Sam. That must a’ been thirty years ago. 

Charley. It’ll be thirty years come next October. 

Sam. I wuz back here, though, once after that. 

Charley. I know it. You come back when your Pa 
died. That wuz th’ spring of th’ high water, when all 
our fences washed away. Now wait a minute—that wuz 
th’ secon’ year after I moved where I am now. It’s 
been twenty-four years since you made a track in this 
village. 

Sam. I have stayed away quite a whet, I guess. But 
after Pa died there wuz nothin’ much t’ hold me here, 
so I jest stuck t’ my work out west till I made a little 
speck. Then I bought a place of my own, an’ seemed 
like I jest couldn’t leave, then. But I’ve sold out all I 
had an’ I’m back here t’ stay. 

Charley. Well, that’s good. I’m shore glad you ’re back. 
Y’ know we used t’ have some awful good times t’gether. 

Sam. You bet we did. An’ I don’t see nothin’ t’ keep 
us from havin’ some more, too. 


a 


94 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 




Charley. They orten t’ be. : 

Sam. Say, do you remember that time we poured soap ^ 
suds in th’ dinner horn at th’ camp meetin’? (Laughs.) ^ 
Charley. Do I? (Laughs.) I c’n jest see ole Parson 
Blivens gittin^ red in the face tryin^ t' toot fer dinner. ] 


Both laugh. * 

Sam. Yeah, when he fin’ly got up enough wind t’ git th^ 
suds started out, a bubble as big as a punkin’ puffed 
right up in his face. Oh shuckins! {Laughs.) 

Charley. An’ then it busted an’ th’ ole parson nearly 
fell off a th’ stump he wuz a-standin’ on. 

Both laugh heartily. 

Sam [hecorriirig calm\. Say, what y’ got on fer t’night? 
Anything special ? J 

Charley. Nothin’ ’t I know of. ; 

Sam. How ’bout stirrin’ up some kinda fun? 

Charley. 0. K., ef I c’n git away from th’ ole womern. 

Sam [gets to his feet]. Say, feller! (Looks interestedly \ 
off stage at Bight.) Who is that girl cornin’ out of th’' 
store over there? 

Charley [rises too]. Lemme see. 

Sam. Ain’t that Nancy Simpkins? Looks like her. 

Charley. Why no, not ezackly, Samuel. That ain’t 
Nancy Simpkins, it’s Nancy Burnside—daughter of 
Nancy Simpkins that used t’ be. 

Sam. Nancy Burnside, eh? Purty, ain’t she? ; 

Charley. Yeah, I reckon Nancy’s a right good lookin’: 
gal. j 

Sam. Y’ reckon? Man, I know she is. That’s a purty^ 
good load she’s got, looks t’ me like. ■ 




OLD SCHOOLMATES 


95 


Charley. She’s a good, hefty, robust young womern, 
though, she ’ll make it. 

Sam. Wonder if she’s a good cook. 

Charley. She’s hard t’ beat. 

Sam. Can she milk? 

Charley. She’s learnt t’ do nearly all kinds o’ work 
since her Pa died. 

Sam. That’s th’ kind of a girl I like to see. One that 
ain’t afraid t’ take th’ ox by th’ horns when he gits 
in th’ ditch. 

Charley. Well, Nancy an’ her ma, Nance, as ever’body 
calls her now, has had a purty hard row of stumps t’ 
weed, but they’ve stuck t’ their post an’ pulled through 
purty good, I reckon. 

Sam [preening]. Say, Charley, is it a fac’ what you said 
while ago—’bout me still lookin’ young? 

Charley [puzzled]. Why shore, you look all right. 

Sam. Well, I’ll see y’ later, boy. I’m gonna spruce up 
t’ that gal an’ carry them bundles home fer ’er. 

Goes out gaily, limping, at Right. 

Charley. Pore ole Sam. I reckon he’s gonna be dis¬ 
ap’inted when he fin’s out Nancy an’ my boy Samuel, 
his own namesake, are engaged. But Nancy’s a good 
girl. She’ll be nice to ’im when he tells ’er who he 
IS, an’ I know her Ma’ll be tickled f death t’ see ’im. 
Mighty fine woman, Nance is, too. Time Sam gits ever’- 
thing explained to ’im an’ talks to Nancy’s Ma a while, 
I think he’ll prob’ly re’lize his age an’ things’ll all come 
out right yit. 


CURTAIN 


THE FOOLS OF APEIL FOOL 


Tom 

Ted 


CHARACTERS 

Nat 

Ned 


Tim 

Mr. Brown 


All of the characters are regular save Ned, who is black¬ 


face. 


Discovered: Tom and Ted tying a string to an old purse. 

Tom. She’s stuffed good and full, Ted. Somebody’s gonna 
think they’ve found themselves rich. 

Ted. Won’t they, though? Is our string long enough to 
reach around the corner? 

Tom. I think so. Put the old purse down here, where 
anyone that passes will be sure to see it. 

Ted. And when they stoop to pick it up—jerk the string 
and holler, ‘‘April Fool!” 

Boys put the purse down, extending the string along a 
crack in the floor so that they may hide behind such 
an obstruction as may be convenient to the stage in 
' use. 

Ted. You c’n have the first jerk; but I’m gonna be n,ext 
on it, Tom. 

Tom. Sh-h! Here comes Tim McCoy, now. 

Enter Tim from Right. He sees purse. 

Tim. a purse! What luck! 

Tim goes to purse and stoops to pick it up. Tom jerkh 
it away. 


96 



THE FOOLS OF APRIL FOOL 


97 


ToMa?i(^TED [together], April Fool! April Fool! 

Tim [embarrassed]. Why, it’s just a hoax. 

Tom and Ted come out to replace the purse as before. 

Tom. Don’t you think that it’s a good one for April Fool 
day, Tim? 

Tim. Not much. 

Ted. Oh, that’s because you are the one that just got 
stung on it. Come hide with us and watch some one 
take a nibble, too; then you may change your mind about 
it. 

Tim. No, I can’t do that. 

Tom. Why not ? 

Tim. Because I have to go to the Post Office and mail 
a letter for my uncle. 

Ted. Well, join us when you come back, then. 

Tim. No thanks. I don’t think I’d get any fun out of 
doing anything like that, which will only make some one 
feel badly. 

Exit Tim at Left. 

Tom. Aw, he’s a goody-goody sissy cat, anyhow. Let 
him go on to the Post Office and buy an all-day sucker 
as he comes back. 

Ted. Why, sure. Let’s hide again, before some one else 
comes along. 

They hide as before. 

Ted. Remember, now, it’s my time to jerk the string, if 
anybody else bites. 

Tom. Nobody said that it wasn’t. Better get ready, too. 
Here comes Ned, the nigger that works for Hamiltons. 

Ted. Oh boy! Will he miss making a grab? I’ll say 
he will not, if I know anything about nigger nature. 
Tom. Sh-h! ... 


98 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Enter Ned from Left. 

Ned. Dis am a fine mawnin’ fo’ fishin’ an’ heah I has 
t’ trot mah laigs off a-carryin’ imitations fo’ Miss Win- 
ferd’s pahty. 

Ned passes the purse without takiyig any notice of it. 
Tom and Ted stick out their heads and makes gestures 
of exasperation and disappointment. 

Ned [returning in great excitement]. Lan’ o’ Goshen! A 
, golly whollipin’ big black cat, as sho’ as mah toe nails 
tu’ns up! Ah ain’t gonna cross wheh at he crossed at. 
No sail, I’ll walk fo’ miles outa de way, ef I has to, 
befo’ I does that. 

Tom and Ted withdraw again. Ned sees the purse. 
Ned. Hotziggity! Look at that! (Rubs his eyes.) Am 
dat a pocket book a-lyin’ dere, or am mah eyes a-lyin’? 
{Looks all about cautiously.) Hit sholy ’peahs t’ be a 
pu’se, a’right. Looks as fat as a Chris’mas goose, too. 
I bet dey’s mos’ nigh a millium dollahs in it. {Ap¬ 
proaches purse stealthily.) Ise a-comin’, Ise a-comin’, 
little pu’se. J^Ioney talks a lang-widge that evahbody 
un’erstan’s, an’ it ’peahs t’ me lak I c’n heah yo’ callin’ 
out loud. {Pauses to take a rabbit's foot from his pocket 
and kiss it.) Black cat or no black cat—I c’n gib dis 
ole rabbit’s lef’ hin’ hoof credick fo’ one piece ob good 
luck. {Replaces rabbit's foot in his pocket.) Bein’s 
dey ain’t nobody heah but me, Ise gonna mesmerize yo’, 
little pu’se, an’ tu’n all de money on yo’ insides t’ 
hun’ed dollah Willyums. 

Ned marches round and round purse on tiptoe, making 
peculiar waving motions with his hands. Boys in hid¬ 
ing shift their positioyis slightly, as if cramped. 

Ned [alarmed]. What’s dat? Does I heah feet tracks 


THE FOOLS OF APRIL FOOL 


99 


cornin’? I sho don’t want ’em t’ see me, fo’ den I’d 
be diskivered. Guess I bettah no mess wid no mesmer- 
izin\ Bettah jes take dis heah pu’se lak it am. 

Ned stoops to pick up purse, which moves a few inches. 

Ned. Hey! What’s de mattah heah? Stop yo^ messin’. 
Mebbe yo’s a ha’nt! I axes yo’ now, fair an’ square, 
“Ain’t yo’ a ha’nt or ain’t yo’ a ha’nt?” {Draws hack 
a little.) Now looka heah, I ain’t gonna stan’ fo’ no 
mo’ foolishment. {Knees shake violently.) ’Bout all 
I c’n do t’ stall’ a-tall. {Reflects a moment.) Lissen 
heah, now, pu’se, Ise gonna gib yo’ fai’ wa’nin’ once 
mo’—Don’ yo’ sta’t no capahs heah again. Yo’s sho 
li’ble t’, git run ober an’ tromped on’ ef yo’ does. 
{Scolds with his finger.) Dat ain’t no way fo’ a nice, 
decent pu’se t’ be actin’ nohow—hoppin’ ’roun’ heah 
lak a frog. {Becoming holder.) Now, lemme tell yo’ 
sumpin, Mistah Pocket-Book, Ise gonna sta’t to’ards yo’ 
again, an’ yo’d bettah stan’ still, too. {Advances a few 
inches.) Yo’ am still, ain’t yo’? Mebbe dat wuzn’t 
yo’ a-movin’ while ago. Mebbe hit wuz jes mah eyes 
got t’ glimmerin’ wid de excitement. 

Gets on hands and knees and approaches purse very 
slowly. 

Ned. Ise gonna try ketchin’ yo’ dis time jes lak I d ketch 
a nice, fat pullet. {Purse pioves slowly ahead of him.) 
Oh, Ise done caught outer yo’ tricks now. Ise gonna 
foiler yo’ right on till I hems yo’ up in dat co’nah, den 
yo’ might as well consider yo’seT caught. Dey ain’t 
nothin’ evah slipped through dese heah fingahs o’ mine 
but Steve’s wool, an’ I knows yo’ ain’t as sho’t as it. 

Note: Much comedy can he introduced while Ned is 
following the purse across stage and discoursing as 
above. For instance, the hoys pull on the string at 


100 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


times in short nervom jerks, to which Ned responds 
with spasmodic movements of his hody. At length 
the parse halts near the hiding place of Tom and Ted, 
leaving Ned in an extremely ridiculous posUire, one 
hand and one foot poised in air in imitation of a bird 
dog. 

Ned. Um, golly! Yo’s de mos’ obstinates’ pu’se I evah 
saw, in all mah bo’n days. 

Boys are discovered hy Ned. 

Ned. Hey! 

Tom. April Fool 1 Ned 1 April Fool 1 
Ted. April Fool I April Fool! 

Ned [grabs purse breaks the string and jumps t-o his feet]. 
April Fool, nothin’. Dis niggah ain’t no fool. Ise done 
mesmerize mahse’f a pii’se full o’ money while yo’ all 
wuz settin’ neahly on top ob it. Yo’ all’s de fools. 
Exit Ned at Right. Tom and Ted come forward. 

Tom. Well, well, what do you know about that? 

Ted. Poor old Ned doesn’t know enough about April 
Fool to see the joke we played on him. 

Tom. Well, it was funny as a Charlie Chaplin to see him 
crawling across there after the purse; but the joke is 
not altogether on Ned after all. 

Ted. Why, what do you mean? 

Tom. I really had six pennies in that old purse. 

Ted. Do you mean that? 

Tom. For a fact, I do. Ned will think he’s rich after all. 
Ted. I suppose he will; but let him enjoy the six pennies. 

I feel like we had a lot more than six cent’s worth of 
fun out of it. 

Tom. So do I, for that matter. 

Exeunt Tom and Ted at Right as Mr. Brown enters at 
Left. 


THE FOOLS OF APRIL FOOL 


101 


Mr. Brown. Such a cold, such a cold as I do have! {Pulls 
a handkerchief from his pockety dropping a purse as he 
does so.) I’ve really rubbed my poor old nose till it 
must be as red as a gobbler’s snout. 

Exit Mr. Brown at Right as Nat enters at Left.. 

Nat [sees purse]. Ho! Another April Fool trick! I just 
kicked an old hat, with a brick in it and nearly broke 
my toe. Guess I won’t bite at this nice, fat-looking 
purse. {Looks about.) It’s bound to be a wash-out 
of some kind; but I don’t see anyone watching it. May¬ 
be they got tired of waiting for a sucker and left it. 
Wonder what the gag is. I fixed one last year that 
would throw snuff in the face of whoever opened it. 
This one may do the same, or something like it. I be¬ 
lieve I’ll just watch it a while myself and see what 
happens to the one that picks it up. [Hides in same 
place used by Tom and Ted]. 

Nat. I do believe I hear voices approaching already. 
I’m glad I didn’t have to wait long. I am not very 
patient. 

Reenter Tom and Ted at Right. 

Tom. Look, Ted, some one else has planted a trick pocket- 
book here. 

Ted. Don’t even pretend to notice it. They won’t get to 
laugh at us. 

Nat emerges from hiding. 

Nat. Oh, you wouldn’t bite, would you ? 

Tom. Not us. 

Ted. We had one right in the same place not long ago, 
se we were on our guard for some kind of a hoax. 

Nat. Did you catch any suckers? 

Tom. Yes, two. But the last one ran off with the bait, 
so we had to quit. 


102 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Nat. Well, what do you say to staying here with me a while 
and watching this one? 

Tom. I’d soon as not. 

Ted. Let’s do. Tim McCoy will be back before long and 
he is almost sure to bite again. He is so absent-minded, 
he won’t remember what happened to him a while ago. 
Tom. You see, he bit at our gag, Nat. 

Nat. And he’s almost sure to bite again. I see him com¬ 
ing, too. Let’s hide. 

All three hide. Enter Tim at Bight. 

Tim [sees purse]. Another April Pool trick, I guess. 
Well, I won’t be the fool again. {Starts to pass.) But 
I don’t know that I care—let them laugh, if they want 
to and feel like that is any sport. {Picks up purse.) 
Why, it’s mighty heavy! {Opens it.) My gosh! It’s 
full of sure enough, honest-to-goodness, real money! 

Boys in hiding exchange glances. 

Tim. Gee, but I’m glad I picked it up now! 

Enter Mr. Brown, hastily, from Bight. 

Mr. Brown [excitedly]. My God! That was all the money 
I had in this world, and to think that now I’ve lost it. 
Careless! Careless! 

Tom, Ted and Nat rise and stand unnoticed in the hack- 
ground. 

Tim [puts purse behind himself]. Did you lose some 
money ? 

Mr. Brown. All I had. I don’t know what made me so 
careless. I was never so unfortunate before. 

Tim. Does this look like yours? {Extends the purse.) 
Mr. Brown [eafirerii/]. That’s mine! Where did you get 


THE FOOLS OF APRIL FOOL 


103 


Tim [hands over the purse]. I just found it rig^ht where 
you are standing. 

Mr. Brown. Thank you a thousand times, my lad. 

Tim. Better count it to see if I took any out. 

Mr. Brown [looks in purse hut does not take out its con¬ 
tents]. Oh, I’m sure that nothing is missing from it. 

Tim. At first I was going to pass it up, for I had been 
April-Fooled once tliis morning, but something seemed 
to draw me back. 

Mr. Brown. I’m glad it did. The next to come along 
might not have been so honest as you. And to show my 
appreciation of your honesty and kindness, I shall give 
you this ten dollar bill. 

Mr. Brown gives Tim a hill. 

Tim. Thank you, sir. 

Exeunt Tim and Mr. Brown at Eight and Left respec¬ 
tively. 

Nat, Tom, Ted [each striking his palm forcibly to his fore¬ 
head], April Fool! April Fool! 


CURTAIN 


i 


TOM TAYLOR’S TROUBLES 


CHARACTEES 

Tom Taylor, whose troubles are not real. 

Flora Petty, much interested in Tom. 

Elsie Campbell, sharp-witted but sympathetic. 

Jack Bingham, a tease and skeptic. 

Frank Crane, bearer of the bad news. 

Louise Peters, interested in gossip. 

All are pupils of the intermediate grades. 

Scene: A schoolroom before ^‘books.^’ 

Discovered: Flora, Elsie, Louise and Jack. 

Flora. Well, the first bell rang a good while ago and 
Tom Taylor isn’t here yet. 

Jack. You seem to ^e dreadfully interested in Tom Taylor 
of late, Flo. 

Flora. I don’t see anything so dreadful about that. 

Jack. Well, you must be getting sweet on him, though. 

You get uneasy if he is out of your sight. 

Louise. Is that all you think of, Jack? 

Jack [mischievously]. Oh no, not entirely. I find time 
to think of you, once in a while, Louise—and you too, 
occasionally, Elsie. 

Elsie. Don’t put yourself to any trouble to think of me, 
Mr. Bingham. The effort might be too much of a strain 
on your mind. 

Jack. Oh, no trouble at all, Miss Peters. I’m awfully 
big hearted, you know. 

Louise. I didn’t know that you thought of people with 

104 


TOM TAYLOR’S TROUBLES 


105 


• your heart. I thought your head was supposed to do 
that. 

Jack. Well, then, I’m big-hea— I mean I have lots of 
room in my head, too, then. 

Elsie. You ought to hang out a “For Rent” sign, then, 
for it’s easy to see that the room is unoccupied. 

Jack. Oh, that will do, Elsie. We all know you are smart 
at getting ahead of people. 

Flora. Why did you start anything with her, then ? 

Jack. Oh, I always liked to tease an old cranky dog just 
• to hear him growl, and I suppose it is something of the 
same thing about Elsie that makes me like to tease her. 

Louise. Let’s change the subject before some one gets 
bitten. 

Flora. Yes, let’s do. I see some one outside; but it 
isn’t Tom. It’s Frank. He must be sick. 

Elsie. Who? Frank? He would not likely be coming 
to school, then, would he, Flora? 

Flora. Elsie, you are too smart. You know whom I 
meant. I was thinking that Tom must be sick. 

Louise. She only wanted to tease you, Flo. Don’t mind 
it. 

Jack. No, don’t. Her bark is worse than her bite, for 
a fact, and we’ll ask Frank about Tom for you. 

Enter Frank. 

Frank. Say, have you heard the news ? 

Jack. News ? 

Elsie. What news ? 

Louise. Tell us about it. 

Frank. About Tom Taylor. 

Flora. Oh, I knew it! I told you! I just felt it. 

Louise. Hush! Flo. It may not be anything bad. 

Frank. Yes, it’s pretty bad, I guess. 


106 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Flora. See there! I told you! Oh, I felt it coming! 

Jack [to Frank]. Well, what is it, goofy? Tell us and 
be done with it. 

Louise. Yes, do. 

Elsie. Don’t create suspense. 

Frank. I don’t wear silk pants. 

Flora. Please, Frank, hurry and tell what has happened 
to Tom. I’m so nervous. 

Frank. Well [draws long breath] you all know Tom lives 
with his Aunt and Uncle— 

Jack. Yes, we know that. '• 

Frank. Well, you know Tom’s Aunt .Minnie— 

Louise. We know her, too. Go on. 

Frank. Well, you know she’s always been nervous and 
high strung like— ; 

No one answers. 

Frank. I say, “You all know she’s nervous and high 
strung like— 

All. Oh, sure! 

Flora. Oh, what did she do to Tom? 

Frank. She didn’t do anything to him that I know about. 

Jack. Well, for Cram’s sake, go on with your story and 
stop so much stalling around with “Well, you know 
so-and-so. ’ ’ 

Frank. Wlio’s telling this, anyway. Jack Bingham? 

Jack. Oh, you are. But why don’t you go on and finish? 

Frank [sulking]. Tell it yourself, you’re so smart. 

Louise. No, go ahead, Frank. He won’t interrupt again 

Frank shakes his head. 

Elsie. Yes, do go on, Frank. I’m filled with curiosity 
myself. 

Flora. And I’m so n-nervous. 


TOM TAYLOR’S TROUBLES 


107 


Frank. "Well, if you’ll all keep still and let me tell it my 
way, I will finish what I started. 

Girls. We will! We will! 

Frank. Well, as I said, you all know that Tom lives with 
his Uncle and Aunt— 

Jack. Oh my goodness! There he goes all over again! 

Girls. Hush! Jack, hush! 

Frank stares fiercely at Jack. 

Jack. I’ve hushed. I won’t say another word, if he 
^‘Well you knows” till midnight. 

Frank. You don’t have to listen if you don’t like it. 

Jack. And I don’t have to like it if I do listen. 

Flora. Please go on, Frank. 

Frank. Well, where was I? Oh yes, Tom’s Aunt 
Minnie— 

Louise. What about her? 

Frank. Well, you know'she has spells? 

Flora. Not spells, Frank. 

Elsie. What kind of spells are you talking about? 

Louise. You mean nervous breakdowns, maybe, Frank. 

Jack. Aw, he has spells himself. I think he’s having one 
now. I for one don’t believe anything has happened. 

Frank [offended]. I know something has happened. 

Jack. Why don’t you tell it, then? 

Frank. Why don’t you keep still, then, like you said 
you would? 

Jack. Because you give me the Jimmies, that’s why. 

Elsie. You keep still, Jack, before I start growling at 
you again, and maybe bite you. 

Jack. Oh, sure. Glad to do it if you say so. 

Louise. Go on, Frank. n, , a 

Frank. Well, as I said, then, you know Toms Aunt 
Minnie has nervous breakdowns, as you call it— 


108 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Frank waifs for a response which no one offers. 

Frank. I said, ^‘You all know Tom’s Aunt Minnie has 
nervous breakdowns, as you call it”— 

All. Oh, yes! We all know that! 

Frank. Well, don’t act like a bunch of dummies, then. 
All. Oh no! We won’t! 

Frank. Well, you know I believe that Tom’s Aunt Minnie 
has gone crazy! 

Flora. Wliat ? 

Frank. I said, “You know I believe that she’s gone 
crazy. ’ ’ 

Louise. Frank Crane! What are you saying ? 

Elsie. That is a serious thing to say. 

Jack. I don’t believe it myself. 

Frank. I don’t care whether you believe it or not. 

Flora. I can hardly believe it either, Frank. 

Frank. Well, they’ve sent her off, anyhow. 

Louise. Sent her off? 

Jack. Rats! 

Flora. Oh, Tom and his Uncle Ben wouldn’t do that. 
Elsie [puzzled]. Sent her off? 

Frank [iriumphantly]. Yes, I said “sent her off.” 

Elsie. But where did they send her, Frank? 

Frank. To the asylum, of course. 

Louise. Surely not. 

Flora. Poor woman! Tom thought so much of her, too. 
Jack. Well, I still have my doubts about all this, I tell 
you. Things will have to be explained more than they 
are before I swallow such a story. 

Elsie. Who said that they sent her to the asylum? 
Frank. I did, that’s who said it. 

Louise. Did you see them take her to the train ? 

Frank. No, I didn’t see that. 

Flora. Who told you about it, then? 


TOM TAYLOR’S TROUBLES 


109 


Frank. I told you that no one told me about it. 

Jack. Oh, he just made it all up. 

Frank. No, I didn’t make it all up, either. 

Louise. Well, for pity’s sake, then, tell us how you know 
so much, or think you know so much. 

Frank. I ’ll do that, since you are all so hard to convince. 

Flora. Please do, Frank. That is something terrible— 
to be sent to an asylum. 

Frank. I know it is. And I’ll tell you how it happened 
that I found out all about it. You all know that I usually 
come to school with Tom. 

Jack. What has that to do with it? 

Frank. Wait and see, Mr. Smarty. Well, you all know I 
always come by for Tom at about the same time every 
morning. 

No one replies. 

Frank. I said, “You know I always come by for Tom at 
about the same time every morning.” 

Girls. Oh yes, surely. 

Frank. Well, you know, he is usually waiting for me at 
his Uncle Ben’s big gate. 

Jack. I know that. 

Frank. Well, you know, this morning when I got to the 
big gate, Tom wasn’t there. 

Flora. We knew that he didn’t come to school with you. 

Frank. Well, I went on toward the house to see about 
Tom. 

Louise. And every one was gone ? 

Frank. No, every one was not gone. As I said, I went 
on toward the house and it is true that I didn t see 
any one; but I heard voices. 

Flora. Oh, I’m so n-nervous. 

Elsie. Go on, Frank. 

Frank. Well, I went on till I got to--the door and-was* 


110 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


ready to knock on it, when I couldn’t help hearing Tom’s 
Uncle Ben say ^‘Tom,” roughly, just like that; ‘‘Tom.” 

Girls [starting ]. Tom. 

Frank. And then Tom ans'wered, “Yes, sir,” meekly, 
just like that. “Yes, sir.” 

Girls. Yes, sir. 

Frank. Then Tom’s Uncle Ben went on, “Tom, you 
better go see if your Aunt’s still alive in the asylum this 
morning. ’ ’ 

Jack. Are you telling the truth? 

Frank. That’s what he said. 

Louise. What did you do, then? 

Frank. Why, I just turned round and walked off. I 
didn’t want to intrude on their sorrow. 

Elsie. Neither would I, Frank. That’s a pretty straight 
account. Jack. It must be true. 

Frank. Of course it’s true. Why would Tom’s Uncle 
Ben be telling Tom to see about his Aunt in the asylum, 
if she wasn’t in one? 

Louise. He wouldn’t, of course. 

Flora. Why, Tom must not have gone to the asylum after 
all. I see him coming. 

Louise. Now, let’s don’t any one mention the unhappy 
subject to him. It must be sad enough without having 
every one reminding him of it. 

Elsie. He will probably be very sensitive about it. 

Jack. Any one would, in his place, if it were true. 

Frank. Why do you still keep saying, “If it were true?” 

Jack. Because I still have my doubts about it. 

Frank. You give me a pain, Jack Bingham. 

Jack. Tom Taylor may give you another, too. 

Flora. I’m simply going to ask Tom all about it. 

Elsie. Oh, I wouldn’t, if I were you. 


TOM TAYLOR’S TROUBLES 


111 


Jack. No, don’t. If there is any truth in it, we can soon 
tell it by his manner. 

Enter Tom. 

Tom [very cheerily]. Hello, everybody. 

All. Hello, Tom. 

Tom [to Frank]. Why didn’t you wait for me, old side 
kick? 

Frank [embarrassed], Why-er-a— I don’t suppose you 
knew I went down to your house. 

Tom. Sure. I know that you did. And when you got to 
the door you turned and bolted like a scared rabbit. 
I was just coming out when I saw you running as if 
the mischief were after you. 

Frank. Well, Tom—you see—I felt like—that is—I 
thought—well, to be blunt with you, I was sure you 
would not come to school to-day. 

Tom. I fail to see why you thought any such thing as 
that. You know that I am trying for a perfect attend¬ 
ance record. 

Frank. Well, then, you see I heard what your uncle told 
you to do, so I didn’t think you’d come, if you did that. 

Tom. Oh that! Why, that was nothing to keep me from 
school. It took only a few minutes to do that. [To 
others.] You see, just as I was ready to leave. Uncle Ben 
asked me to see if the ants were still alive in the silo, 
or if the poison had killed them. 


CURTAIN 


THE TROUBLE-MAKEES 


Hal and Joe, the trouble-makers. 

Tom and Ted, their intended victims. 

Scene: Out-of-doors, on the way to school 
As curtain rises Hal and Joe enter carrying books and 
lunch baskets. 

Hal. I think Tom and Ted will be along" pretty soon. 
This is where their footpath eomes into ours. Let’s 
wait for them here. 

Joe. They may not be together this morning. You talk 
as if it were impossible for one to be seen without the 
other. 

Hal. Well, it is almost that way. 

Joe. Oh no, once in a while they come to school sepa¬ 
rately. And I have seen one start home in the evening 
without the other. 

Hal. It’s a rare thing, though. They are so fond of each 
other and their own company that one will hardly be 
seen anywhere without the other. 

Joe. Yes, and if you want to know something, I think 
that’s all bunk, too. 

Hal [flaring up]. What’s all bunk? What I said? 

Joe [crossly too]. No, the way Tom and Ted act. Not 
that you are never guilty of spilling any bunk, though. 

Hal [menacingly]. Maybe you don’t like it. 

Joe. What I don’t like I let go by. 

Hal [raising his fist]. Maybe you can let this go by too, 
then, Mr Smarty. 

Joe. Oh, I don’t think that it’s liable to explode and go 
anywhere, is it? 


112 


THE TROUBLE-MAKERS 


113 


Hal. Don’t get too fresh and smart, now. I might de¬ 
cide to park it on your cranium. 

Joe [unconcerned^. No, no, maybe not so bad as all that, 
for you might get pinched for parking a nuisance in a 
reserved place. 

Hal. Just keep on now with your insinuations, and I 
guess ITl have to show you. 

Joe. Oh, you’re not so bad. You’re just big-mouthed 
and ugly. That’s all. 

Hal. Say, feller! Listen t’ me! 

Joe. I’m not deaf. 

Hal. I just feel like it was time for us to have a quarrel 
this morning. 

Joe. Really? 

Hal. And I’m not so sure that it may not be time for 
something more serious. 

Joe [reflectively]. Well, come to think of it, I guess it 
has been long enough since we had a battle for us to 
have another. 

Hal. Now you’re talking sense. We haven’t fought in 
such a long time, that it is almost a honeymoon. 

Joe. And above all things, we don’t want to be accused 
of being two such goody-goody sissies as Tom and Ted. 

Hal. Get set, then, and we’ll have a little friendly mix- 
uqt just to improve our appetite and keep in trim. 

Both assume fighting postures. 

Joe. Ho! Wait! Just look what I see! [Gazes heyond 

Hal] . . 

Hal [ivithout turnmg]. None of your monkey business, 
now. If this is going to be a fight, let’s make it a fight, 
and not have any shines or tricks to it. 

Joe. Oh, we can have our little sociable battle later on. 
I want you to look at what you said wouldn’t happen. 
Here comes Tom with Ted. 


114 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Had. Mind you, now, if you try any monkey business, 
you 11 be sorry. {Turns his head to look too.) 

Joe [triumphantly]. What did I tell you? 

Hal. It beats me. 

Joe. I guess maybe they’re busted up. 

Hal. If they haven’t, here’s a good chance to bust ’em. 
Joe. For a fact it is. We’ll stuff old Tom up against 
Ted till he won’t even look at him any more. {Laughs.) 
Hal. Well, for the love of Mike, see if you can keep 
your face straight. 

Joe. Aw, you go tell your Gran’ma how to milk ducks. 
I’ll take care of my face. 


Enter Tom from Bight. 

Tom. Good morning. 

Hal. H’y’, Tom. 

Joe. Hullo. Where’s the other Siamese twin? 

Tom. What do you mean? 

Hal. Where’s your buddy—Ted? 

Tom. I don’t know. 

Joe. Oh, have you really separated, then? When you 
gonna get a divorce? 

Tom. What on earth are you talking about, anyway.? 

Joe. Why, from the way that you and Ted have been 
hanging together, I thought surely you must have been 
married. 

Tom. We are good friends. 

Hal [winking at Joe]. You mean that you were good 
friends. 

Joe [nodding to Hal. Why yes, there’s quite a difference 
between are and tvere. 

Tom. To be sure, I know that. But still, that doesn’t 
keep Ted and me from remaining friends. 


THE TROUBLE-MAKERS 


115 


Joe. I suppose, then, you haven’t seen him this morning, 
have you, Tom? 

Tom. Why no, not this morning. 

Hal. Well, you’d better not want to see him, either. At 
least I wouldn’t, if I were you. 

Tom [wonderingly']. Why? 

Hal [mysteriously]. If you knew what we know, you’d 
never want to see him again. 

Tom. I don’t see why I wouldn’t. What do you know? 

Joe. Tell him, Hal. 

Hal. No, I. don’t want to be a tattler. 

Tom. Tell me, if you think you know something which 
I should know. 

Hal. I guess you really ought to know it all right; but 
I’d hate to think I’d be meddling. 

Joe. Oh, he won’t think that. Tell him. 

Hal [reflectively]. It might be best to tell him. 

Tom. Why sure, if you know anything that will benefit 
me, I shall consider it a favor for you to tell it. 

Hal. Well, last night Joe and I went over to Ted’s. 
Didn’t we, Joe? 

Joe [hesitatingly]. Ye-es. 

Hal. And he said a lot of things about you— 

Tom. Who did? Joe? 

Joe [quickly]. No, I didn’t. 

Hal. Ted did. 

Tom [confidently]. Oh no, I hardly think so. 

Hal. he, Joe ? 

Joe [reluctantly]. Ye-es. 

Hal [more boldly]. He said that he was getting tired of 
you because you were such a coward. 

Tom. When? Last night? 

Hal. Yes, last night. 

Tom [seriously]. Why are you telling me this, Hal? 


116 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Joe hecomes uneasy. He shifts from one foot to the 
other and looks off from time to time. 

Hal. Because I wanted you to know how he really felt 
toward you. 

Tom. Really ? 

Joe is more uneasy. 

Hal. Yes, I wanted you to be on your guard, so that 
when you saw Ted, you could give him the cold shoulder 
that he deserves. 

Joe [feeling in pockets]. Say—I believe I left my knife 
back up the road a little piece. I’m going to look for it. 

Exit Joe at Right. 

Tom. And so you want me to fall out with Ted, do you? 

Hal. Oh, so far as that goes, I don’t care what you do 
about it myself. I know what I’d do, though. 

Tom [curiously]. What would jmu do? 

Hal. I’d punch his nose for him and let him see whether 
he could call me a coward and get by with it or not. 

Tom. You would? 

Hal. Yes, I would. And I wouldn’t say a word to him 
till I did it, either. • 

Tom [very solemnly]. Perhaps I will do some nose punch¬ 
ing. 

Hal. Well, I really think you should. 

Tom. I’m glad to hear you agree with me. 

Hal. You’ll be doing no more than you should. 

I OM. That s what I have decided. I see Ted coming 
and as soon as he gets here I ’ll begin. 

Hal. Attaboy! I wish Joe had stayed to see the fun. 

Tom. Oh, never mind. Joe may get in on it yet. 


THE TROTJBLE-MAKERS 


117 


Enter Ted from Right. 

Ted. May get in on what? 

Tom. On some nose punching. 

Hal [delighted]. Don’t weaken now, Tom. I’m with 
you. 

Tom. Yes, I know. {To Ted.) You see, Hal was just 
telling me that he and Joe went over to your house last 
night and that you said a lot of mean things about me. 

Ted [surprised]. He did? 

Hal [uneasily]. Did I say last night? 

Tom. He went his limit to turn me against you, so I 
think we might as well turn some of his own medicine 
against him. What do you think? 

Ted. I’m with you. 

Tom and Ted put down their hooks and lunch kits and 
pitch onto Hal, who is soon stretched out with Tom 
on his head and Ted on his feet. 

Tom. Do you still want me to do some nose punching ? 

Hal. No, no. 

Tom. Oh yes, just to show that I’m no coward. 

Ted. Did he call you a coward? 

Tom. He said you did. 

Hal. I didn’t mean it, though. Honest I didn’t. I was 
just joking. 

Ted. You just wanted to cause ill feeling between us, 
because we get along better than you and Joe, didn’t 
you? 

Hal. Well, I did hate to see you go along forever with¬ 
out even a quarrel. 

Tom. You believe in quarrels and fights, do you, Hal ? 

Hal. Not any more. 

Ted. Will you try to cause any more trouble between us ? 

Hal. No, if you’ll let me up. 


118 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR‘HAPPY DAYS 


Ted. YouTl get up soon enough. 

Hal. But I want to get up now. Ill tell you what— 
let me up and Ill help you give Joe a lesson on med¬ 
dling with other folks’ affairs, too. 

Ted. All right, that’s a bargain. 

Tom. He needs it as much as you did. 

They let Hal get up; as he rises Joe reenters. 

Joe. But Joe’s already learned his lesson. Honest Injun, 
I have. 

Hal. Let’s impress it on his mind, though, so he won’t 
forget. 

Joe. No, no. Please don’t, Hal. I knew you were start¬ 
ing off wrong with Tom. I could see that he didn’t be¬ 
lieve a word you told him. That’s why I left. 

Tom. Naturally, I didn’t. In the first place, I knew you 
hadn’t even seen Ted, for he stayed with me last night, 
but went home this morning to get his composition paper. 

Ted. Do you think we ought to give Joe a Dutch rub, 
or something, to remember, Tom? 

Joe. No, no. I don’t need any. Sure enough, I can tend 
to my own business from now on, without it. 

Hal. Well, let him off, then, and let’s all be friends. 

Tom and Ted [together]. All right. 

All gather up their hooks, etc., and start off together as 
CURTAIN falls. 


A CAT AT SCHOOL 


CHARACTEES 


Miss Jackson 


Cecil 

Leon 


Helen 

Edith 

SiNA 


John 

Roy 


Gordon 


Hollie 

Lula 


The Janitor 


Scene: Miss Jackson ^s classroom. 

Miss Jackson's desk at left of stage faces across stage 
to chairs or desks for the pupils. 

Discovered: Gordon, Cecil, Roy, Leon and John at 
teacher’s desk. Gordon has a cat in his hands. 

Gordon. Now, won’t she throw a fit when she gets a 
scratch from Miss Puss here. 

Cecil. Why, what are you going to do with it, Gordon? 
Gordon. Do? I’m going to tie it under the desk here, so 
that when Miss Jackson comes in and sits down, the 
cat will give her a rake across the ankle. 

Roy. Which the cat will naturally do, ‘cause it’ll be mad 
about being tied up so long. 

Leon. What if it tears her stocking ? 

Cecil. She can buy some more, I guess. 

Leon. But if she finds out who did this, we may wish we 
never had seen a cat. 

John. Cat scratches are sometimes dangerous, too. I heard 
of a man that got blood poison from a cat scratch. 
Leon. That is right. 


119 


120 ' FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


JcfBN. We don’t want really to hurt Miss Jackson, do 
we? I’d feel ashamed of that. 

Roy. She never seems to feel ashamed of keeping us in 
at recess and noon, does she? 

Leon. Well, she does keep us in a lot when I feel like it 
would be better for us to play; but then, she is always 
pleasant with us about it. 

Gordon. Can’t we be pleasant over this cat giving her a 
scratch or two? 

Cecil. Let’s try to think of some way to give her just a 
shock, wthout causing any real pain or damage. 

Roy. I believe you guys are gettin’ sissified. 

John. Well, for my part, I don’t consider that I am. I 
wouldn’t stand back a moment on something plenty rough 
for Professor Mitchell. He’s a man and I don’t like him 
anyway. But I don’t want to do anything real mean 
to Miss Jackson, fellers. 

Cecil. Neither do I. She never treats us so very mean 
and besides, I don’t feel like we’d get enough kick out 
of the stunt to justify the risk we’d be running of get¬ 
ting into trouble over it. 

Gordon. Well, let’s fix the cat for the Prof, then. Let it 
tear the whole gable out of his pants. 

Leon. Why, you know he wouldn’t be afraid of a cat. 

Cecil. Of course he wouldn’t. He’d just give the poor 
cat a kick in the ribs and that would be all the kick 
there’d be to that. 

Gordon. I guess that is about right. 

Cecil. I know it’s right. Say, though. I’ll tell you what 
let’s do— 

John. Tell it. 

Cecil. I’ve just thought of something. 

Gordon. Let’s hear it, then. 

Cecil. Well, you know, as soon as we all get seated after 
we pass into class. Miss Jackson always sits down too. 


A CAT AT SCHOOL 


121 


John. What’re you gonna do? Put the cat on her chair 
an’ let her sit on it an’ make it squall? 

Roy. It wouldn’t stay on the chair and even if it did, 
she’d be sure to see it before she sat down on it, wouldn’t 
she? 

Cecil. My idea is nothing like that. 

Roy. Go ahead and explain your idea; then. What are 
you waiting so long about it for? 

Gordon. Sure don’t be all day about it. Miss Jackson is 
liable to come in any minute, now, and upset the whole 
works. 

Cecil. How can I explain anything as long as you fellers 
all keep buttin’ in with your own smart observations, 
till I can’t get in a word sideways? 

Leon. That’s a fact, fellers. You have just kept your 
tongues clacking till Cecil^hasn’t had a chance to tell 
anything. Ever’body shut up now an’ give him a chance 
to tell what he wants to tell. 

Cecil. Well, what I had in mind is this: You know, as 
soon as everyone gets seated. Miss Jackson sits down too, 
calls the class to attention and opens the right hand top 
drawer of her desk to get her class register and pencil. 

Gordon. What if she does ? 

John. Why, put the cat in there, goofy, and let it jump 
out in her face when she opens the drawer. Is that it, 
Cecil ? 

Cecil. Well, just about. Of course it may jump in her 
face, may not jump at all; but I’m pretty sure she will 
be plenty surprised when she opens the drawer to get 
a class record and finds a cat. 

Roy. Let’s try it, then. We can’t afford to waste all day 
arguing and trying to think of something better. 

The hoys open the drawer mentioned and put the cat in¬ 
side, then close the drawer. 


122 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


Leon. Now remember, if she asks any questions about this, 
of course none of us are supposed to know a thing 
about it. 

Roy. Why, naturally not. Well all be as ignorant as 
ignoramuses. 

Gordon. I won’t cheep a chirp myself. 

Cecil. Well let’s get out of here now. 

Exeunt hoys at left. They are scarcely out when the 
Janitor enters at Bight and tacks up a poster behind 
Miss Jackson’s desk. As he starts out, he meets Miss 
Jackson at the door. 

The Janitor. Good morning, Miss Jackson. 

Miss Jackson. Good morning. 

The Janitor. I just tacked a poster there, back of your 
desk. You might call the attention of the class to it. 
Perhaps it’ll be worth somethin’ to some of ‘em. I’m 
puttin’ one in ever’ room, just like Professor Mitchell 
told me to. 

Exit The Janitor at Bight. Miss Jackson goes to poster 
and takes it down. 

Miss Jackson [reading poster]. A valuable cat lost! 
Five dollars reward olfered or its return. It is not very 
likely to be found in school. Wonder what made the 
owner of the cat get that idea. poster onto her 

desk.] I shall mention the matter to the class, though, 
if I think of it. Some one of them may have seen it on 
their way this morning. 

Enter Sina, Edith, Lula, Hollie and Helen at Bight. 
All have pencils and paper. Helen carries a hook. 
Edith. Miss Jackson, will you help us with this sentence? 

We can’t agree on how to parse it. 

Miss Jackson. Why yes. Let’s see it. 

Helen [gives the hook]. Number six. Miss Jackson. 


A CAT AT SCHOOL 


123 


Miss Jackson [reading from the hook']. “In the old 
colony days of Plymouth, to and fro in his room strode 
Miles Standish, the Puritan captain. ’ ’ Now, what do you 
wish to know about this sentence ? 

Lula. We are trying to parse it. Miss Jackson, and we 
want to know the parts of speech of colony and Puritan. 

Miss Jackson. Before I tell you, let me hear your own 
opinions, to see if you really need my help. 

SiNA. We thought that both of them were nouns. 

Miss Jackson. And why did you think so? 

Hollie. They are both names of something. 

Edith. And a noun is the name of anything. 

Miss Jackson. You are right, but still you are wrong. 

Lula. Why Miss Jackson! 

Helen. We couldn’t be both right and wrong, could we, 
Miss Jackson ? I don’t understand that. 

Miss Jackson. Yes, you are right in thinking that, or¬ 
dinarily, both colony and Puritan are names of some¬ 
thing. You are wrong, however, to class them in this in¬ 
stance purely as nouns. 

Hollie. Why, if they are names of something, they must 
be nouns. What else could they be? 

Miss Jackson. Did you never hear of one thing being used 
in the place of something else ? 

Edith. Yes’m, I have. Mother uses Dad’s razor to trim 
her corns, sometimes. 

Miss Jackson. Think, then, if these two words are not 
used to describe, rather than to name something in this 
sentence. 

Edith [puzzled^. To describe? 

SiNA. [brightening]. Why yes, I see it now. Colony des¬ 
cribes days — 

Lula. Sure, and Puritan points out captain. 

Miss Jackson. That is exactly correct. I wanted you to 


124 


FUNNY PLAYS FOR HAPPY DAYS 


do some of the thinking for yourselves. It is not good, 
even for cripples, to have too much support; and I know 
you girls are not cripples. 

Hollie. Why, of course we are not cripples. What are 
you talking about. Miss Jackson? 

Helen. She means crippled in mind, Hollie. 

Hollie. Oh, I see. 

Edith. Then colony and Puritan should both be listed as 
adjectives. 

Miss Jackson. To make it perfectly clear as to their con¬ 
struction and use, I should classify them as, “nouns 
used as adjectives.” 

Lula. There is not enough room for all that in the space 
allowed for each word. 

Miss Jackson. Can’t you abbreviate? 

SiNA. Of course we can. 

Hollie. Thank you, Miss Jackson. 

Bell rings offstage. The hoys reenter at Right. 

Miss Jackson. You may be seated. 

Pupils find seats and produce their hooks, etc. 

John [raises his hand. Miss Jackson nods]. My pencil 
is gone. 

Leon. Here it is, I guess. [Holds up a pencil.] 

John [looks at pencil]. That isn’t mine. 

Gordon. That is mine. {Takes pencil from, Leon.] 

Miss Jackson. Has anyone seen John’s pencil? 

Pupils all scramhle and search for the pencil among their 
hooks and papers; no one reports a find. 

Miss Jackson. John, you will have to borrow a pencil 
somewhere, I think. 

John. I have a little short stub that I can use. 

Miss Jackson [sits]. Before we begin the lesson for the 
period, I want to ask if any of you have seen a stray cat 
this morning. 


A CAT AT SCHOOL 


125 


Boys exchange frightened glances. 

Lula. I saw one yesterday morning. 

Miss Jackson. I am not interested in yesterday morning’s 

cats. Has anyone seen a. cat this morning? 

[Mentions color of the cat put in the desk.] 

Boys become more nervous. 

Gordon. We— I mean, I haven’t seen any, Miss Jackson. 

Roy. I haven’t even seen a kitten, much less a cat. 

Helen. I believe that I heard a cat in the basement be¬ 
fore I came up to our room. 

Leon. Well, I haven’t seen or heard a cat in so long, I 
had almost forgotten there was such a thing. 

Miss Jackson. I hardly expected that any of you had 
seen it. I merely asked because the janitor left a poster 
in here this morning offering a reward of five dollars 
for the return of such a cat. Let the class come to at¬ 
tention now and we shall proceed with the lesson. 

Miss Jackson mechanically opens the desk drawer and 
pulls out the hidden cat. 

Hollie. Oh, Miss Jackson, don’t let it bite you! 

Gordon. I bet that’s the stray 1 

Lula. Yes, but who. would give five dollars for a thing 
like that ? 

Cecil. Why, the owner of it, of course. 

Edith. Lots of people would give that much to get back 
a pet they were fond of. 

SiNA. Aren’t you afraid of it. Miss Jackson ? 

]\Iiss Jackson. Why no. I was always rather fond of cats 
myself, and they seemed to like me pretty well, too. 
Perhaps that is the reason this one crawled into my 
desk and fastened itself in as it did. 

Helen. But, Miss Jackson, do you think a cat could do 
that ? 



126 


FUNNY PLAYS FOB HAPPY DAYS 


Miss Jackson. You may ask the boys to explain that to you 
while I am gone to take the cat to the janitor and claim 
the reward. 

Miss Jackson starts out at Eight, carrying the cat. 


CURTAIN 





GOOD BOOKS FOR CHILDREN’S READING 

For children from five to ten years 

Nonsense Rhymes and Animal Stories. By Alhambra 
G. Deming. 

Charming little rhymes and stories, incidentally teaching 
habits of good English to the little folks. 64 pages, with 35 
illustrations in black and color. Cloth, 65 cents. 

The Teenie Weenies. By William Donahey and Effie 
E. Baker. 

The adventures of these strange tiny folks are related in 
a manner that is delightfully simple and realistic, and 
which will be found to appeal to the child’s sense of humor. 
141 pages, with 72 illustrations in colors and decorated end 
sheets. Cloth, 70 cents. 

Two Indian Children of Long Ago. By Frances 
Lillian Taylor. 

A collection of beautiful Indian legends, giving an intimate 
picture of Indian child life. 160 pages, with 40 illustra¬ 
tions in black and color. Cloth, 70 cents. 

Nixie Bunny in Manners-Land. By Joseph C. Sindelar. 
This is the first of the popular Nixie Bunny Books which 
have been read wherever there are children. It is a rabbit 
story of good manners. 144 pages, with 62 Illustrations in 
colors and decorated end sheets. Cloth, 70 cents. 

The other books In the same series are; 

Nixie Bunny in Workaday-Land 

A rabbit story of the occupations and industry. 144 pages, 
with 90 illustrations in colors and decorated end sheets. 
Cloth, 70 cents. 

Nixie Bunny in Holiday-Land 

A rabbit story of the holidays. 159 pages, with 82 illustra¬ 
tions in colors and decorated end sheets. Cloth, 70 cents. 

Nixie Bunny in Faraway-Lands 

A rabbit story of strange little folk. 160 pages, with 94 
Illustrations in colors and decorated end sheets. Cloth 7( 
cents • ’ 


BECICLEY-CARDY COMPANY Publishers CHICAGO 






CHOICE ENTERTAINMENTS 


Prepared especially for school use, and particularly for 
Friday afternoons and special day exercises. 

DIALOGUES AND CHILDREN’S PLAVS 

Dialogues and Plays for Entertainment Days—Fainton.40 

District-School Dialogues—Irish .40 

The Golden Goose—Guptill...15 

Humorous Dialogues for Children—Irish.40 

Specialty Entertainments for Little Folks—Painton.40 

Twelve Plays for Children—Guptill.. .40 

RECITAriONS 

Best Primary Recitations—noag. <30 

DRILLS AND ACTION SONGS 
Humorous Drills and Acting Songs—Irish.. 

MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENTS 

Rummage—Race .. * .25 

Uncle Sam P. iVL—Race.... .25 

SPECIAL DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 

The Best Christmas Book—Sindelar.- .40 

The Best Thanksgiving Book—Sindelar. .40 

Christmas at Stebbinses’—Irish.25 

Closing Day Entertainments—Sindelar.40 

Merry Christmas Entertainments—Sindelar. .40 

Polly in History-Land, or Glimpses of Washington—Painton.. .25 

Susan Gregg's Christmas Orphans—Irish.25 

PLAYS 

The Great Turkey-Stealing Case of Watermelon County—Gra¬ 
ham. ^25 

The Last Half-Day in the District School—Praser-Higgins.35 

The Prize Essay, or “Boy Wanted”—Painton.35 

The Value of X—^Painton.35 

Illustrated Catalog of Books mailed free upon request. 


BECKLEY-C A.RDY COMFANY,Publishers, CHICAGO 























LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



Popular Entertainui5??t^SwwlJ 


For 

All 

Occasions 


And 

All 

Grades 


Recitations 

Dialogues 

Drills 

Plays 


Each Book 
has from 
88 to 192 
Pages 


PRICE EACH 40 CENTS POSTPAID 

Beckley-Cardy Company, Publishers 



CHICAGO 














